STRAY  LEAVES 

FR°M 

NEWPORT 


2 


STRAY   LEAVES   FROM 
NEWPORT 


STRAY  LEAVES   FROM 
NEWPORT 


BY 

ESTHER  GRACIE  WHEELER 


BOSTON 

CUPPLES  AND   KURD 

94  BOYLSTON  STREET 

1888 


Copyright,  1888, 
BT  CUPPLES   AND  HCRD 

All  rights  reserved. 


SECOND   EDITION. 


The  Riverside  Prttt,  Cambridge  : 
Elwtrotyped  and  Printed  by  II.  0.  Honghton  &  Co. 


If  among  these  Stray  Leaves  a  few  flowers  chance  to  bloom, 
they  owe  their  existence  to  the  sunshine  of  sympathetic  compan- 
ionship and  unabated  affection,  to  the  memory  of  which  they  are 
tenderly  dedicated. 


CONTENTS. 


PAOB 

THE  NEWPORT  CLIFF.  ROSEBANK —  OCHRE  POINT  .  1 

SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED 3 

MY  WIFE  —  WHERE  is  SHE?  A  STOBY  OF  NEWPORT 

MIDDY-EVIL  LIFE 156 

OTB  BOY.  A  SKETCH  OF  NEWPORT  DOMESTIC  LIFE  .  179 
FATA  MORGANA  :  ON  NEWPORT'S  BAY.  DEDICATED  TO 

Miss  M.  M 190 

GENERAL  ALBERT  GALLATIN  LAWRENCE:  HERO  OF 

FORT  FISHER 192 

WARREN'S  NEWPORT  HOMB  .  .  194 


STRAY   LEAVES   FROM   NEWPORT. 


THE  NEWPORT  CLIFF. 

ROSEBANK  —  OCHRE  POINT. 

OF  the  two  friendly  beacons  —  History,  Law,  — 
Which  once  on  the  Cliff  lit  up  nature's  face, 
One  has  gone  out ;  but  the  storm-beaten  shore 
Still  holds  the  other  in  loving  embrace. 

Flora  decks  Clio  with  June's  fairest  roses  ; 
They  linger  through  summer  to  greet  autumn's  store. 
The  deeds  of  the  patriot  the  historian  discloses, 
Refreshed  by  the  breezes  that  blow  round  his  door. 

And  the  Carnival  of  Nature  doth  yearly  renew 
Our  National  Colors  for  Bancroft's  birthday, 
In  the  red  of  the  flower,  the  ocean's  deep  blue, 
Whence  the  white-crested  waves  leap  their  tribute 
to  pay. 


Where  once  fragrant  hawthorn  led  up  from  the  gate 
To  the  home  of  the  jurist  of  undying  fame, 


1711385 


2  THE  NEWPORT  CLIFF. 

Now  gridiron  fence,  by  sarcasm  of  fate, 
Keeps  in  memory  the  martyr  l  who  bore  the  same 
name. 

The  Cliff's  ragged  beard  has  been  shaven  and  shorn, 
The  hand  of  improvement  has  trimmed  nature's  face ; 
Of  that  thread  of  life-histories,  the  Cliff  path  well 

worn 
By  annual  tread,  there  remains  not  a  trace. 

Gone,  too,  the  old  gully,  which  picturesque  ran 
To  the  cave  where  the  Pirate  Kidd  buried  his  gold. 
Cave  and  pirate  alike  are  now  buried  from  man. 
A  caveat  might  stop  the  intruder  too  bold, 
Or  perchance  Cave  canem,  in  fierce  accents  rolled, 
Should  he   seek  the   slate   rock  where  his  romance 
began. 

Shy  Romance  may  no  more  upon  the  Cliff  stand, 
The  gay  waves  of  Fashion  have  washed  her  away ; 
And  ochre  turned  gold  in  the  great  rise  of  land 
Is  the  wonderful  alchemy  worked  out  to-day. 

1  St.  Lawrence  was  broiled  on  a  gridiron. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  Opera  House  at  Newport  was  crowded  to 
excess,  one  January  evening,  for  it  had  been  an- 
nounced that  a  certain  well-known  orator  was  to 
give  his  most  eloquent  lecture.  Whatever  were 
his  idiosyncrasies,  his  power  to  arrest  and  hold 
the  attention  of  an  audience  was  undeniable. 
Thus  the  reputation  of  the  speaker  drew  many 
to  hear  him,  while  many  others  went  merely  be- 
cause their  neighbors  did. 

For  although  Newport,  like  a  child  tired  of 
play,  is  apt  to  drop  into  a  sound  sleep  when  the 
summer  frolic  is  over,  it  can  also,  like  a  child, 
be  roused  by  an  unwonted  excitement.  A  star 
at  the  Opera  House  will  draw  winter  Newport- 
ers  from  their  firesides  to  an  extent  calculated  to 
surprise  the  visitor  who  may  have  wondered  at 
its  deserted  streets  during  the  daytime. 

This  evening  there  was  not  even  standing 
room  in  the  house,  when  the  searching  glance  of 
the  speaker  wandered  around  it,  as  if  to  take 
note  of  his  audience  before  plunging  into  his 


4  STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

subject.  His  roving  eyes  suddenly  settled  upon 
one  face  in  the  human  sea  before  him,  as  though 
he  there  found  an  illustration  of  his  theme.  It 
was  a  pale  face,  striking  rather  than  handsome, 
lighted  up  by  wonderfully  fine  gray  eyes,  which 
gleamed  with  intelligence.  If  dress  be  an  indi- 
cation of  character,  the  simple,  well-fitting  cos- 
tume of  gray  camel' s-hair,  with  trimmings  of  the 
same  color,  its  only  relief  a  knot  of  scarlet  rib- 
bon at  the  throat,  matching  the  feather  tip  in 
the  "  Derby  "  hat,  was  as  expressive  in  its  tone 
as  was  the  gay  attire  of  velvet  and  chinchilla, 
the  gilded  hair,  and  the  gorgeous  diamonds  glit- 
tering in  the  shell-like  ears  of  her  companion, 
—  the  latter,  a  pretty  young  woman,  who  was  per- 
petually turning  around  and  keeping  up  a  run- 
ning fire  of  whispering  with  an  attendant  youth, 
most  annoying  to  those  about  her,  who  wished 
to  listen  to  the  lecture.  The  girl  in  gray  tried 
by  repeated  nudges  of  the  elbow,  and  with  sotto 
voce  "  hushes,"  to  stop  this  dribbling  interrup- 
tion. At  last,  becoming  so  much  interested  in 
the  discourse  that  even  this  chattering  ceased 
to  disturb  her,  she  gave  herself  up  to  the  full 
enjoyment  of  the  speaker's  words.  As  she  lis- 
tened she  felt  as  though  she  herself  were  being 
personally  addressed,  —  strange  electric  current 
of  sympathy  between  two  hitherto  unacquainted 
minds  thus  suddenly  brought  into  contact. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  5 

This  wonderful  psychologist  seemed  to  read 
her  case  and  to  prescribe  for  it.  He  answered 
the  question  she  had  so  often  put  to  herself  with- 
out arriving  at  any  satisfactory  result,  —  the 
question  which  must  occupy  the  mind  of  every 
thoughtful  man  or  woman,  some  time  in  life. 
"  My  time,  what  shall  I  do  with  it ;  how  best 
turn  to  account  the  talents  which  God  has  given 
me?" 

The  domestic  atmosphere  in  which  this  girl 
had  grown  up  was  not  calculated  to  strengthen 
and  develop  her  higher  nature,  or  to  help  her 
to  a  solution  of  its  requirements  and  possibilities. 
JTet,  as  we  sometimes  see  a  lovely  flower  bloom- 
ing in  apparently  most  unfertile  soil,  unchoked 
by  the  stones  and  weeds  which  lie  about  it,  and 
drawing  its  vigor  and  beauty  from  the  passing 
sunbeam  and  the  pure  air  of  heaven,  so  this 
"  Picciola "  lived  uncrushed  by  the  hard  sur- 
roundings of  worldliness  and  lack  of  sympathy 
in  which  her  lot  had  been  cast,  drawing  her  en- 
joyment from  the  rich  stores  of  her  own  inner 
self,  her  keen  appreciation  of  the  good  and  beau- 
tiful in  nature  and  art  quietly  helping  on  heart 
and  mind  culture. 

With  those  who  do  not  look  beyond  the  sur- 
face, her  shy,  reticent  manner  made  her  seem 
cold  ;  little  did  even  her  mother  or  sister  guess 
the  reserve  force  of  feeling  lying  dormant  within 


6  STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

her  nature,  ready  to  spring  into  a  warm  glow  at 
the  touch  of  a  kindred  spirit.  Some  sparks  of 
this  latent  fire  would,  it  is  true,  occasionally  flash 
forth  and  astonish  her  family. 

But  the  managing  mother,  intent  on  pulling 
together  the  refractory  ends  of  a  narrow  income, 
priding  herself  upon  her  ability  to  "  make  one 
dollar  go  farther  than  some  persons  can  five,"  — 
a  process  which  takes  much  of  the  poetry  out 
of  life ;  the  elder  sister,  gladly  availing  herself 
of  the  artistic  taste  and  fairy  fingers  of  her 
junior,  to  help  her  equip  herself  for  the  con- 
quest of  the  husband  who  should  "  endow  her 
with  all  his  worldly  goods,"  —  these  daily  com- 
panions of  the  undemonstrative  little  being  had 
never  guessed  the  aspirations  of  her  soul ;  the 
anti-conservative  opinions  which  were  strength- 
ened in  her  mind  by  reading,  and  the  strength- 
ening of  buttons. 

A  needle  is  to  a  woman  what  a  cigar  is  to  a 
man,  —  an  aid  to  meditation.  As  she  apparently 
calmly  plied  her  needle,  the  little  seamstress  was 
thinking  not  of  the  conquest  of  a  husband,  but 
of  a  means  of  independence,  doing  good  to  oth- 
ers ;  believing  that  man  and  woman  were  in- 
tended by  God  to  find  "  the  holy  estate  of  mat- 
rimony "  a  source  of  mutual  elevation  and  hap- 
piness, not  the  degradation  it  too  often  proves 
to  both  :  resolving  that  if,  in  the  "  wise  dispen- 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  7 

sation  of  Providence,"  marriage  should  be  her 
lot,  it  should  come  to  her  as  the  joy  and  fulfill- 
ment of  her  life,  but  that  she  would  never  seek 
it  as  a  necessity,  a  medium  of  bread  and  butter 
and  clothes.  As  the  young  girl  worked,  she 
mentally  said  to  herself,  "  Aimlessly,  uselessly 
drifting  through  life,  why  should  I  wait  to  be 
somebody's  wife  ?  Why  not  be  somebody  my- 
self. I  will,  so  help  me  Heaven." 

Her  father  had  been  a  man  of  a  bright,  witty 
mind,  who  had  made  a  joke  of  life,  and  of  every- 
body in  it,  including  himself.  His  handsome 
person,  easy,  pleasant  manners,  and  amusing  con- 
versational powers  had  readily  won  him  friends 
wherever  he  went,  and  he  had  as  quickly  turned 
them  into  enemies,  for  he  never  lost  the  oppor- 
tunity of  saying  a  good  thing,  no  matter  at 
whose  expense.  With  fair  talents  he  had  no 
continuity  of  purpose,  his  facile  disposition  al- 
lowing him  to  be  led  by  others  into  one  thing 
after  another. 

His  father  had  persuaded  him  to  study  medi- 
cine, for  which  he  had  no  taste ;  a  friend  in- 
duced him  to  renounce  prospective  patients  for 
the  law,  assuring  him  that  powers  of  oratory  so 
rare  as  his  ought  to  be  utilized.  His  first  case 
was  his  last.  He  tried  business,  and  found  to 
his  cost,  or  rather  his  father's,  for  the  latter  had 
advanced  the  capital,  that  business  was  not 


8          STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

his  forte.  A  pretty  face  with  "  great  expecta- 
tions "  led  him  into  matrimony,  and  soon  after 
their  marriage,  his  wife  convincing  him  that  as 
he  could  neither  make  nor  keep  money,  the  resi- 
due of  his  patrimony  was  better  in  her  hands, 
he  settled  it  all  in  that  direction. 

Thus  relieved  from  all  responsibility,  and  glad 
to  escape  from  the  recrimination  of  "  that  supe- 
rior woman,"  as  he  invariably  styled  his  "  better 
half,"  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  natural  vis  in- 
ertia of  his  character,  and  to  amusements  away 
from  home. 

One  day  his  blood  mare  Wisteria  —  so  called 
because  in  a  lucky  coup  he  had  won  her  at  whist 
—  threw  him,  and  he  retired  from  the  battle  of 
life,  in  which  he  had  never  taken  a  very  active 
part. 

The  mother,  left  to  bring  up  and  educate  her 
two  daughters  alone,  did  her  duty  by  them,  ac- 
cording to  her  light.  Had  any  one  told  this 
"  Martha  "  that,  in  the  bringing  up  of  her  girls, 
she  had  neglected  the  one  thing  needful,  she 
would  have  been  as  astonished  as  indignant. 
Had  she  not  nursed  them  devotedly  through  the 
successive  maladies  of  infancy  and  childhood, 
sent  them  for  several  years  to  school  on  week 
days,  and  taken  them  to  church  once  a  day  on 
Sundays?  Had  she  not  organized  for  their 
benefit  dancing  classes,  which  only  the  children 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  9 

of  the  most  fashionable  and  wealthy  parents  were 
allowed  to  join  ?  Had  she  not  visited  and  en- 
tertained, to  keep  up  desirable  acquaintances  for 
them ;  contrived,  planned,  in  fact  slaved,  that 
they  might  always  appear  as  well-dressed  as  their 
associates  ?  What  mother  could  do  more  than 
she  had  done,  and  ought  she  not  to  be  rewarded 
for  all  her  pains  by  seeing  her  daughters  in  due 
time  led  to  the  hymeneal  altar  by  men  with 
money  in  their  pockets  ? 

Her  eldest  daughter  had  entered  freely  into 
the  matrimonial  views.  If  any  ideas  of  senti- 
ment had  ever  visited  that  butterfly  brain,  they 
had  been  quickly  dissipated  by  her  share  of  the 
tiresome  daily  stitching  necessary  to  accomplish 
the  keeping  up  of  appearances  —  that  house- 
hold maxim.  She  longed  for  genuine  Worth 
dresses,  instead  of  the  base  imitations  gotten  up 
from  memory.  She  hated  the  circumscribed  ex- 
penditure to  which  she  was  condemned  by  fate, 
determined  upon  a  speedy  marriage  and  a  rich 
one,  and  set  herself  to  work,  with  all  her  powers, 
natural  and  acquired,  to  accomplish  this  one  end 
and  object  of  woman's  existence ;  and,  angling 
with  dexterity,  she  soon  succeeded  in  landing 
her  golden  fish.  "  A  little  common,  a  little  vul- 
gar, but  so  rich,"  the  bride-elect  remarked  con- 
fidentially to  a  dear  friend,  as  she  exhibited  the 
gorgeous  engagement  ring.  "  Sam  adores  me ; 
he  will  let  me  do  exactly  as  I  please." 


10        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

The  proud  mother  assisted  at  the  ball  of  the 
season  in  her  daughter's  handsome  establish- 
ment in  New  York,  and  afterwards  returned  to 
Newport  well-pleased  that  one  dear  child  was  so 
successfully  married  off. 

But  Sam  unfortunately  did  not  prove  fast 
colors  in  the  matrimonial  wear  and  tear ;  he  did 
far  more  as  he  pleased  than  his  wife  approved 
of,  nor  was  he  as  liberal  with  his  money  as  the 
scion  of  an  old  family  had  a  right  to  expect, 
considering  the  honor  she  had  done  him  in  mar- 
rying him. 

When  she  would  aggravating!}'  dwell  upon 
this  honor,  and  contrast  him  with  "  men  she 
might  have  married,"  he  would  retort  with  coarse 
insinuations  of  "  certain  man  -  traps  set  for 
unlucky  fellows  to  stumble  into."  A  sauce 
piquante  of  invective,  mutual  recrimination  and 
family  history  would  be  poured  out  by  these  two 
with  their  soup  and  continued  through  the  sev- 
eral courses,  to  be  eagerly  imbibed  and  subse- 
quently reported  by  the  attendant  human  tele- 
phone, of  whose  presence  they,  like  most  of  us, 
would  be  singularly  oblivious  in  the  heat  of  a 
discussion.  And  yet  we  wonder  how  our  most 
private  affairs  get  abroad,  and  how  it  is  that  our 
neighbors  are  as  well  acquainted  with  them  as 
we  are  ourselves ! 

It  was  through  such  mysterious  channels  as 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  11 

these  that  it  had  become  generally  known,  and 
had  reached  Newport,  that  there  was  little  har- 
mony in  the  scarcely  year-old  household. 

When,  therefore,  the  daughter,  becoming 
more  and  more  affectionate,  would  come  fre- 
quently alone  to  see  dear  mamma,  Sam  quite 
too  busy  to  leave  New  York,  uncharitable  New- 
port, mindful  of  the  several  matrimonial  "  odd 
fellows  "  in  her  midst,  would  smile  knowingly, 
and  there  would  be  whispers  in  the  air  of  di- 
vorce or  amicable  separation  pending. 

But  the  astute  mother,  knowing  how  people 
will  talk,  and  not  at  all  anxious  to  have  her 
daughter  back  as  a  permanency,  glad  as  she 
might  be  to  receive  an  occasional  embrace  from 
her  with  the  last  fashions,  would  listen  to  the 
list  of  domestic  grievances  poured  into  her  ma- 
ternal bosom,  and  then  calmly  assure  her  dear 
child  that  her  husband  was  neither  better  nor 
worse  than  most  men,  all  of  them  as  a  rule  being 
selfish  and  requiring  female  management.  But 
this  diplomatic  mother  would  add,  "  You  must 
be  careful  not  to  let  them  see  you  are  managing 
them ;  "  and  the  excellent  manager  who  had  re- 
ceipts for  everything  appertaining  to  a  household 
would  proceed  to  give  the  best  rules  for  manag- 
ing a  husband. 

After   a   few   days   spent    under    perhaps   a 
Quaker-colored  sky,  in  dull   Newport,  the  un- 


12         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

happy  wife,  finding  little  sympathy  in  the  ma- 
ternal bosom,  would  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
it  might  be  as  well  to  return  to  New  York  and 
her  domestic  tyrant,  and  she  would  proceed  to 
look  for  an  escort  with  whom  to  perform  the 
perilous  journey. 

On  the  evening  when  this  story  commences, 
the  escort  having  been  found  and  immediately 
engaged,  he  had  entered  upon  his  duties,  by  re- 
questing the  pleasure  of  the  company  of  his  spe- 
cial charge  and  her  sister  that  evening  at  the  lec- 
ture. "  Well,  yes,  it 's  something  to  do,  though 
I  hate  lectures  ;  don't  you,  Mr.  Littlejohn  ? " 
Mr.  Littlejohn,  as  in  duty  bound,  did  hate  them, 
but  was  willing  to  sacrifice  himself  on  this  occa- 
sion, and  quite  equal  to  taking  charge  of  both 
ladies,  as  he  blushingly  assured  the  particular 
object  of  his  care. 

"  Keep  him  all  to  yourself,  my  dear.  It  would 
be  like  *  making  two  bites  of  a  cherry '  to  di- 
vide such  a  little  beau ;  "  and  the  younger  sister 
suspended  the  "  getting  on  of  her  things  "  and 
threw  herself  into  a  chair,  laughing  merrily  as 
she  thought  of  this  beardless  freshman,  return- 
ing to  his  Alma  Mater,  solemnly  invested  with 
the  protection  of  a  woman  nearly  ten  years  his 
senior,  and  many  pounds  more  than  his  weight. 

"  What 's  the  joke  ?  "  returned  her  sister,  turn- 
ing from  the  adjusting  of  herself  before  the 


Y77J/r.Yr  AXD  SEAWEED.  13 

glass,  a  vague  idea  striking  her  that  there  might 
be  something  ridiculous  in  the  situation  unap- 
preciated by  herself,  but  apparent  to  the  quick 
wit  of  her  companion.  "  Nothing,'"  was  the  re- 
ply of  the  young  girl.  who.  having  given  vent  to 
this  little  explosion  of  fun,  had  resumed  her 
gravity,  and  also  taken  her  position  at  another 
looking-glass.  "  Nothing ;  that  is,  only  an  amus- 
ing thought  which  came  into  my  head.  You 
know  mamma  of  ton  says  1  have  inherited  papa's 
unfortunate  quick  sense  of  the  ridiculous." 

*•  It  is  unfortunate,  especially  for  a  girl  who 
has  no  money  :  it  makes  people  afraid  of  her, 
keeps  the  men  away,"  rejoined  the  young  ma- 
tron, as  well  as  the  pins  in  her  mouth  allowed 
her  to  speak. 

"  As  I  keep  my  thoughts  to  myself  and  only 
allow  a  privileged  few  to  know  them,  I  cannot 
be  an  object  of  terror  to  the  public  in  general ; 
and  as  to  the  men,  there  are  so  few  in  Newport, 
in  winter  at  least,  that  your  second  objection  is 
not  of  much  account.  You  don't  know,"  con- 
tinued the  young  girl  in  a  burst  of  expansiveness 
quite  unusual  to  her,  "  what  good  times  I  can 
have  without  flesh  and  blood  men,  when  they  are 
not  to  be  had,  and  I  give  myself  a  mental  party 
in  front  of  my  fire.  I  don't  know  any  living  ones 
half  so  agreeable  as  dead  people,  like  Dickens 
and  Shakespeare  ;  they  talk,  I  listen.  It 's  jol- 


14        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

Her  than  most  party-going  or  giving,  except  when 
there  is  dancing.  There  is  no  anxiety  in  my 
private  parties  about  attention  ;  they  are  cheaper, 
too ;  no  expense  for  dress,  hack  hire,  or  supper." 

"  What  a  queer  girl  you  are !  "  replied  her 
sister,  looking  at  her  junior  with  a  puzzled  ex- 
pression. "  How  do  you  ever  expect  to  marry, 
if  you  have  only  the  society  of  your  own  or  dead 
people's  thoughts  ?  " 

"  I  never  do  expect  to  marry,"  replied  the  other, 
with  mock  solemnity ;  "  please  don't  tell  mamma, 
but  I  expect  to  be  that  social  failure,  —  as  I  sup- 
pose you  would  call  it,  —  an  old  maid.  I  shall 
try  to  meet  my  fate  bravely,  and  not  present  to 
the  world  the  amusing,  if  it  were  not  sad,  spec- 
tacle, of  juvenility  of  dress  and  manners  carried 
beyond  the  natural  term  of  years.  It  makes  me 
blush  for  my  sex,  when  I  see  really  intelligent 
females  grasp  in  a  last  convulsive  effort  at  a 
matrimonial  straw.  While  my  own  youth  lasts 
I  intend  to  dance  as  much  as  I  can,  and  with  the 
best  partners  for  the  German,  if  they  are  not 
quite  eligible  for  life.  So  many  girls  lose  the 
short  time  there  is  for  enjoyment  and  dancing, 
by  always  having  an  eye  to  business." 

"  You  might  get  married  as  well  as  other  girls, 
if  you  were  not  so  difficult  to  suit ;  plenty  have 
no  more  money,  and  are  not  half  as  good-looking 
as  you  are,"  rejoined  her  sister  peevishly.  "  You 
are  very  young." 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  15 

"  And  may  improve,  you  think.  Do  not  hope 
it,"  replied  the  young  girl  laughing.  "My  dead 
friend  Will  Shakespeare  warns  me,  '  Younger 
than  thou  have  happy  mothers  been.'  No,  I 
really  think  I  am  a  hopeless  case." 

The  latter  part  of  this  conversation  was  held 
on  the  staircase  ;  the  arrival  of  the  sisters  at  the 
drawing-room  door  put  a  stop  to  further  talk  be- 
tween them. 

As  the  trio  proceeded  to  the  Opera  House  the 
details  of  a  flirtation  quite  engrossed  two  of  the 
party,  and  the  silent  third  walking  beside  them 
communed  with  her  own  thoughts. 

In  the  front  row  of  the  gallery  at  the  Opera 
House  a  handsome  youth,  whose  refined  features 
contrasted  with  the  common  suit  he  wore,  bent 
eagerly  forward  to  listen  to  the  words  of  the 
lecturer.  Once  the  girl  in  gray,  diverting  her 
attention  from  the  speaker,  gave  a  rapid  glance 
around  the  theatre,  and,  chancing  to  look  toward 
the  gallery,  the  eyes  of  these  two  met,  and  a 
smile  of  recognition  and  sympathy  passed  be- 
tween them. 

"  I  say,  was  n't  that  a  jolly  lecture,  eh  ? " 
He  had  wriggled  his  way  to  her  side,  as  only 
boys  can,  at  the  confluence  of  the  main  gallery 
and  side  stream  of  people.  "  He  says  it  is  n't 
common  to  be  a  mechanic  ;  I  mean  to  be  one." 
The  last  words  emphatically  spoken. 


16        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  The  present  Crown  Prince  of  Prussia  is  a 
first-class  carpenter ;  he  made  all  the  furniture 
in  the  private  rooms  of  his  summer  palace,"  re- 
plied the  young  girl,  as  side  by  side  the  two 
emerged  into  the  clear  air,  behind  the  young 
matron  and  her  escort. 

"  No,  you  don't  say  so  ?  I  declare,  I  '11  tell 
that  to  sister  the  very  next  time  she  says  I  have 
no  family  pride,  because  I  want  to  earn  an  hon- 
est living.  What  a  nuisance  family  is,  when 
there  is  n't  any  money  to  keep  it  up !  You  can't 
go  to  market  with  your  family,  now  can  you  ?  " 

"  Hardly,"  laughed  the  girl, "  unless  you  were 
a  cannibal,  and  I  should  avoid  you  in  that  case. 
But  tell  me,  what  does  your  sister  want  you  to 
do?" 

*'  Oh !  to  go  into  the  navy,  of  course,  like 
papa.  But  I  can't  do  that.  I  had  the  appoint- 
ment ;  my  brother-in-law,  who  is  a  big  gun  in 
Congress,  got  it  for  me,"  —  here  he  stammered, 
-"but  it  did  n't  work." 

"  You  mean  that  you  would  not  work  for  it. 
Oh,  Charlie,  what  a  pity !  "  and  she  glanced 
regretfully  at  the  tall,  manly  form,  which  in  a 
middy's  jacket  would  have  looked  so  well. 

"  There  is  no  use  crying  over  spilt  milk,"  he 
retorted,  turning  half  angrily  away,  for  he  felt 
the  reproach  conveyed  in  the  tone,  still  more 
than  the  words,  of  his  companion. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  17 

"  Unfortunately  it  is  always  spilt  milk  with 
you,  Charlie,"  she  replied. 

"  It  is  not  going  to  be,  I  can  tell  you.  I 
made  up  my  mind  when  I  heard  that  lecture 
that  I  would  do  something  useful,"  he  an- 
swered. 

"  What  can  you  do  that  is  practical,  beside 
fishing?" 

"  That  is  useful,"  he  replied,  with  a  bright, 
sunny  smile ;  "  I  sold  my  fish  last  summer.  I 
can  carve  wood,  and  I  can  paint ;  I  wish,"  he 
added  laughing,  "you  could  have  seen  sister's 
face,  when  she  looked  up  one  day  and  saw  me 
on  a  ladder,  brush  in  hand,  doing  a  day's  job 
for  White,  the  painter.  I  wanted  some  pocket 
money  —  I  have  n't  a  rich  husband  as  sister  has 
to  give  it  to  me.  Did  n't  I  get  a  lecture  though 
when  I  got  home,"  and  he  whistled  expres- 
sively. 

"  You  see  sister  thinks,"  he  continued,  "  be- 
cause she  gives  mamma  all  we  have  to  live  upon 
—  you  know  papa  did  not  leave  a  red  cent  — 
that  she  has  a  right  to  boss  me.  Sister  does 
n't  like  to  come  to  Newport  in  all  her  style, 
and  see  her  brother  working.  I  don't  like  be- 
ing hard-up  or  dependent  on  her,  so  I  mean  to 
work." 

"  You  should  go  to  school  now,  Charlie  ;  a 
wise  man  once  said,  '  Knowledge  is  power.'  ' 


18        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  Much  better  might  he  have  said,  *  Money  is 
power.'  How  much  knowledge  have  half  these 
rich  people  who  come  to  Newport?"  he  replied 
bitterly. 

"  They  have  far  more  than  you  think,  many 
of  them ;  it  required  knowledge  of  some  sort 
to  acquire  the  money,  and  all  did  not  inherit 
it.  If,  instead  of  wasting  their  time  railing  at 
rich  people,  poor  people  were  to  spend  some  of 
that  time  trying  to  make  money  themselves,  it 
would  be  far  better  for  their  pockets  and  their 
tempers.  I  have  no  patience  with  repiners.  You 
have  the  best  kind  of  wealth  yourself." 

"  I  ?  "  exclaimed  the  boy,  staring  at  her. 

*'  Yes,  you,"  she  repeated. 

'  '  Brains  and  health 
Are  nature's  wealth.' 

You  have  both,  you  should  use  them  profitably 
for  yourself  and  other  people." 

"  I  declare,  you  talk  as  well  as  a  regular  lec- 
turer. You  might  make  considerable  giving 
lectures,  if  you  needed  money ; "  and  Charlie 
looked  up  admiringly  at  his  young  companion. 

"  Fancy  mamma's  horror  if  I  were  to  mount 
the  rostrum,"  answered  the  girl,  half  laughing ; 
then,  with  a  tinge  of  sadness  in  her  tone,  she 
added,  "  Mamma,  like  your  sister,  thinks  it  be- 
neath one  to  do  anything  to  support  one's  self, 
but,  like  you,  I  want  to  earn  money,  and  I  in- 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  19 

tend  to  try.  That  lecture  may  have  inspired 
both  of  us  to  be  something  more  than  cumberers 
of  the  earth." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  doorstep  of 
the  young  girl's  home.  The  boy  nodded  a  good- 
by,  his  white  teeth,  as  he  smiled,  vying  in  bril- 
liancy with  the  massive  brass  knocker,  which 
adorned  the  door  of  the  family  mansion  of  this 
youthful  advocate  of  labor. 

She  stood  for  a  few  moments  watching  him, 
as  with  hands  in  pockets,  whistling  an  air  from 
"  Pinafore,"  he  half  ran,  half  slid  over  the  icy 
pavement.  Then  with  an  expression  of  resolve 
and  a  sigh,  she  too  turned  and  entered  the 
house. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THERE  are  few  persons  who  were  intimately 
acquainted  with  the  best  phase  of  Newport  soci- 
ety, some  years  since,  who  will  not  recall  with 
pleasure  a  certain  cottage,  where  the  evening 
cup  of  tea  was  additionally  sweetened  by  the 
cordial  smile  and  welcome  of  the  graceful,  charm- 
ing hostess,  whose  conversational  powers  and 
well-stored  mind,  improved  by  the  experience  of 
travel  and  a  life  full  of  interest,  rendered  her 
society  attractive  to  persons  of  different  tastes, 
sex,  and  ages. 


20         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

Married  at  an  early  age  to  a  man  of  literary 
pursuits  and  a  distinguished  diplomatist,  Mrs. 
Rose  had  seen  society  in  many  phases,  both  at 
home  and  abroad. 

She  had  known  adversity  as  well  as  prosper- 
ity. Two  of  her  sons  had  fallen  in  the  War  of 
the  Rebellion,  and  other  children  had  died  in  in- 
fancy. 

Saddened  but  not  embittered  by  her  many 
griefs,  she  sought  comfort  in  contributing  to  the 
happiness  of  those  around  her,  spending  her  am- 
ple means  in  gratifying  her  tastes,  and  in  mak- 
ing life  agreeable  to  her  less -favored  fellow- 
beings. 

Circumstances  had  attracted  Mrs.  Rose's  at- 
tention to  the  surroundings  of  the  young  girl  of 
this  story.  She  had  perceived  the  worldly  home 
atmosphere,  and  appreciated  the  uncongeniality 
of  the  other  members  of  her  family.  She  had 
studied  the  girl's  character,  and  under  her  shy 
exterior  had  seen  glimpses  of  rare  powers  of 
mind.  Interested  in  her  new  acquaintance  she 
had  sought  her  confidence  and  gradually  helped 
her  to  develop  her  mental  resources  and  over- 
come her  diffidence  of  her  own  powers.  What 
wonder  that  this  hitherto  lonely  young  girl  be- 
gan to  feel  for  the  accomplished  woman  who  had 
poured  a  flood  of  sunshine  into  her  life,  that  ar- 
dent, admiring  affection,  which  in  strong  natures, 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  21 

troubled  with  a  desire  for  some  one  to  love,  is 
a  sort  of  avant  courier  of  the  tender  passion, 
sometimes  as  deep,  it  may  be  more  lasting. 

Their  friendship  had  been  of  only  a  few 
months'  duration,  and  already,  under  the  care  of 
this  skillful  gardener,  the  flower  had  expanded 
marvelously  in  grace  and  beauty. 

"  How  well  your  pretty  name  suits  you,  Hope," 
said  Mrs.  Rose,  as  the  bright,  eager  glance  met 
her  own.  They  were  sitting  together  this  even- 
ing in  April,  —  one  of  those  sudden  relapses  into 
winter  with  which  the  Newport  climate  will  dis- 
appoint the  resident  whom  it  had  perhaps  de- 
luded the  previous  day  with  a  fallacious  hope  of 
spring. 

Without,  it  was  cold  and  windy.  Within,  it 
was  the  picture  of  comfort.  Hope,  a  very  dif- 
ferent looking  girl  from  the  one  we  have  hith- 
erto seen,  sat  on  a  bench  in  front  of  the  fire, 
while  Mrs.  Rose  reclined  in  a  comfortable  chair 
near  her. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Rose,"  said  Hope,  after  a  mo- 
ment's silence,  "it  was  not  entirely  for  the 
pleasure  of  your  society,  or  of  reading  that 
excellent  legal  argument  which  that  woman's 
rights  man,  Shakespeare,  puts  into  the  mouth 
of  my  favorite  Portia,  that  I  breasted  the  wintry 
blast  this  evening." 

"  No  ?  "  replied  her  hostess,  smiling.     "  I  had 


22        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

flattered  myself  that  you  came  to  see  me  as  well 
as  to  read  Shakespeare." 

"  Do  you  remember,"  asked  the  girl  somewhat 
irrelevantly,  as  it  seemed,  "  my  telling  you  how 
impressed  Charlie  Williams  and  I  were  by  a  lec- 
ture we  heard  last  winter  before  I  knew  you 
very  well  ?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  replied  her  hostess.  "  I  was  glad 
anything  had  impressed  Charlie." 

"Do  you  know,"  exclaimed  Hope  warmly, 
"  Charlie  has  genius  ;  he  showed  me  a  bird  most 
lifelike  which  he  carved  for  the  top  of  a  clock, 
and  that  suggested  an  idea  for  both  of  us.  I  do 
so  want  to  make  money,"  she  continued,  looking 
up  into  her  hostess'  face,  and  clasping  her  knees 
with  her  hands  in  a  way  peculiar  to  herself, 
when  in  an  earnest  mood.  "  I  think  if  I  had 
a  bank  account  of  my  own,  it  would  give  me 
backbone  to  resist  family  pressure  ia  a  matri- 
monial question." 

"  I  think  you  have  naturally  plenty  of  '  back- 
bone ; '  but  is  there  such  a  question  at  present  ?  " 
and  Mrs.  Rose  looked  with  interest  at  the  girl, 
thinking,  Can  the  worldly  mother  really  wish  to 
sacrifice  this  sweet  child  ?  "  You  would  surely 
not  be  made  to  marry  any  one  against  your 
will,"  she  added. 

"  Of  course  no  one  could  make  me  do  that, 
but  there  is  a  tiresome  man,  whom  the  family 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  23 

encourage,  and  whom  I  detest.  He  is  like  pota- 
toes, at  sister's  every  day  at  dinner  whenever  I 
am  in  New  York  with  her.  But  let  us  talk  of 
something  more  interesting,"  she  continued,  in  a 
different  tone  ;  "  let  us  talk  about  making  money. 
I  do  so  wish  I  could  find  some  way  to  earn  an 
income,  to  have  money  all  my  own,  to  feel  as  if 
I  had  an  object  in  life.  Oh,  if  I  could  only 
be  an  actress,  or  a  singer,  —  something  distin- 
guished, how  glorious  that  would  be !  " 

"  Without  being  glorious,  which  few  can  be- 
come," replied  her  hostess,  laughing  at  the  girl's 
tragic  tone  and  manner,  "  you  might  easily  make 
some  money  by  your  painting  and  embroidery. 
That  Kensington  work  of  yours  would  bring  a 
good  price,  and  so  would  dinner  cards,  like  those 
you  painted  for  your  sister  last  Christmas. 
Send  your  work  to  the  Decorative  Art  Rooms 
in  one  of  the  cities,  under  an  assumed  name,  if 
you  do  not  wish  your  own  to  be  known.  It  is 
often  done.  But  what  did  you  mean  about 
Charlie's  bird  suggesting  an  idea  ?  " 

"  Please  come  and  see  ; "  and  throwing  an  arm 
around  Mrs.  Rose,  Hope  caressingly  raised  her 
from  the  chair,  and  led  the  way  across  the  hall 
to  the  brilliantly  lighted  drawing-room. 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Rose.  "  A  sur- 
prise party  ?  " 

"  Forgive  my  making  a  show-room  of  your 


24         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

drawing-room.  I  took  the  liberty  to  borrow 
your  gas  to  throw  light  on  my  illustration  of 
Nora  Perry's  '  Romance  of  a  Rose,'  said  Hope, 
as  she  held  up  a  fold  of  white  satin,  on  which 
was  exquisitely  painted  a  fair  young  face  looking 
out  of  an  open  window  at  French  officers  in 
glittering  uniforms  going  by,  one  of  whom  looks 
back  at  the  window,  and  kisses  the  rose  he  holds 
in  his  hand. 

*'  How  exquisite  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rose  ; 
"  what  a  lovely  face,  half  hidden  in  that  silk 
hood ;  and  the  French  officers,  what  fine  look- 
ing fellows  !  Do  you  mean  to  say,  child,  that 
you  did  this  ?  " 

"I  am  so  glad  you  like  it,"  replied  Hope. 
"  You  remember  the  lines,  do  you  not  ?  "  and 
throwing  the  painting  over  the  broad  back  of  a 
capacious  velvet  chair,  she  stepped  back  a  few 
steps,  and  in  a  clear,  rich  voice  recited  this  ex- 
tract from  the  poem  :  — 

"  '  And  women  out  of  the  windows  leant 
And  out  of  the  windows  smiled  and  sent 
Many  a  coy  admiring  glance, 
To  the  fine  young  officers  of  France. 
And  the  story  goes  that  the  belle  of  the  town 
Kissed  a  rose  and  flung  it  down 
Straight  at  the  feet  of  I)e  Rochambeau, 
And  the  gallant  marshal,  bending  low, 
Lifted  it  np  with  a  Frenchman's  grace 
And  kissed  it  back  with  a  glance  at  the  face 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  25 

Of  the  daring  maiden  where  she  stood 
Blushing  under  her  silken  hood ! '  ' 

There  was  a  silence  of  a  few  moments  after 
Hope  ceased  speaking,  and  she  fixed  her  eyes 
on  Mrs.  Rose's  face.  The  latter  was  carefully 
examining  the  painted  satin.  "  Yes,"  she  said 
at  last,  "  the  picture  is  wonderfully  good  in  com- 
position and  execution;  the  details  are  excel- 
lent :  a  heavenly  sky,  the  old  quaint  Newport 
houses,  the  sweet  young  face,  under  the  old- 
fashioned  hood,  the  crowd  in  the  street,  —  it  is 
all  in  character,  all  centennial,  even  to  the  satin 
on  which  it  is  painted." 

"  I  painted  it  on  a  bit  of  old  satin  I  found  in 
a  trunk  of  family  relics,"  answered  Hope. 

"  Poor  girl ! "  she  continued,  gazing  at  the 
young  face  looking  out  of  the  window,  "hers 
was  a  hard  fate,  to  be  kept  a  close  prisoner  by 
a  cruel  father  and  not  allowed  to  go  to  the  ball 
where  the  Count  de  Rochambeau  looked  in  vain 
for  her  sweet  face,  and  then  to  be  lost  at  sea, 
within  sight  of  the  land  to  which  she  was  exiled, 
and  all  for  dropping  a  rose  at  a  Frenchman's 
feet !  Nowadays  a  De  Rochambeau  would  be 
thought  a  good  match,  and  angled  for  by  de- 
signing American  parents."  And  Hope  drew  a 
long  sigh,  as  if  in  regret  at  the  inconsistencies 
of  life. 

"If  your  heroine  had   married  her  French- 


26         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

man,  who  perhaps  had  a  wife  at  home  all  the 
time,  the  poem  would  not  have  been  written," 
said  Mrs.  Rose,  "and  you,  Hope,  would  have 
lost  a  charming  subject  for  your  brush,  —  one 
to  which  you  have  done  more  than  justice." 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  like  it,"  and  the  young 
artist  looked  up  with  flushed  cheeks  and  beam- 
ing eyes  into  her  hostess'  face.  "  Your  praise, 
dear  Mrs.  Rose,  is  praise  indeed,  worth  having. 
But  you  must  see  Charlie's  work,"  she  continued, 
as  the  boy  entered  shyly  with  one  hand  behind 
his  back.  "  Have  you  brought  the  cupids, 
Charlie?" 

"  And  what  are  you  two  mysterious  beings 
going  to  show  me  now  ?  "  asked  their  hostess, 
shaking  hands  with  the  new  arrival. 

It  was  a  delicate  piece  of  carving  which 
Charlie  put  into  her  hand :  a  pair  of  cupids 
wreathed  in  roses,  the  whole  gilded  to  suit  the 
subdued  tone  of  the  French  clock  of  the  Empire 
period,  which  stood  on  the  mantel  of  the  Rosery 
drawing-room. 

"This,"  exclaimed  Hope,  "is  the  ornament 
which  is  to  go  over  the  top  of  the  'antique' 
frame  Charlie  is  making  for  my  Romance  of  a 
Rose.  The  sides  of  the  frame  are  to  be  columns 
like  those,"  and  she  glanced  towards  the  French 
console  in  one  corner  of  the  room. 

"  Do  you  think,"  continued  Hope,  "  that  we 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  27 

might  send  this  screen,  when  it  is  finished,  to 
one  of  the  Decorative  Art  places  you  spoke  of  ? 
Do  you  think  it  would  sell?"  she  asked  anx- 
iously. 

"  The  screen  must  be  mine  ;  I  will  buy  it  at 
your  own  price,"  answered  Mrs.  Rose.  "  There, 
Hope,  is  your  bank  account  started.  But  what 
a  revelation  all  this  is  to  me,"  she  added.  "  For 
your  picture,  Hope,  I  was  in  a  measure  prepared, 
I  have  seen  so  many  of  your  sketches ;  though 
this  is  decidedly  beyond  anything  you  have 
hitherto  done.  But  Charlie,  I  confess,  amazes 
me;  I  had  no  idea  that  he  possessed  such 
talent." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not,"  replied  the  boy  quietly ; 
"  most  persons  think  me  good  for  nothing." 

"  I  must  show  you  our  united  idea  for  a  man- 
tel," said  Hope.  "  It 's  ambitious,  but  will  be 
pretty,  if  we  can  carry  it  out.  I  am  to  paint  the 
tiles,  buds,  and  blossoms  for  each  side,  and  over 
the  top.  The  hearth  is  to  be  a  group  of  chil- 
dren dancing,  interlaced  by  a  scroll  with  your 
favorite  motto  from  the  Italian  poet :  '  Oh  ! 
youth,  springtime  of  life.  Oh!  spring,  youth 
of  the  year  ! '  Charlie  will  carve  the  leaves  and 
birds  in  some  pretty  wood.  How  does  it  strike 

you?" 

"  Charming  and  original,"  was  the  reply ;  "  just 
the  thing  for  one  of  Mrs.  Harmony's  pretty  cot- 


28        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

tages  on  the  Bay.  I  will  get  her  to  give  you  an 
order.  What  is  to  be  the  name  of  the  firm  ?  " 

"All  orders  may  be  sent  to  Rose,  Bush  & 
Co.,"  said  Hope,  "  for  we  must  work  sub  rosa. 
Mamma  and  sister  would  disown  me  if  they 
knew  me  a  work-woman." 

"  Hurrah  for  the  firm,  especially  the  Co.," 
cried  Charlie. 

"  Remember  my  screen  is  to  be  finished  before 
you  take  any  more  orders,"  said  Mrs.  Rose. 
"  When  it  comes  home  I  will  introduce  it  into 
society  with  a  strawberry  party  and  a  dance, 
and  the  band  from  Fort  Adams.  The  new 
class  of  Torpedo  officers  at  the  Torpedo  Station 
will  arrive  in  time  to  fill  the  ranks  of  beaux  for 
the  numerous  Newport  belles,  and  I  will  bring 
out  my  choice  French  china  for  the  occasion. 
How  glad  I  am,  my  children,  that  you  have  such 
talents.  There  is  no  telling  to  what  these  flow- 
ers and  birds  may  lead.  Sir  Francis  Chantrey, 
England's  famous  sculptor,  took  his  first  step  in 
fame  with  the  dough-hen,  which,  when  he  was 
but  a  farmer's  boy,  he  placed  on  his  mother's 
pasty.  You,  Hope,  have  been  inspired  by  Nora 
Perry ;  her  romance  may  lead  to  a  reality  in 
your  plan  of  making  money,  beside  the  pleasure 
art  will  bring  you." 

"  And  I  have  been  inspired  by  Hope,"  said 
Charlie,  laughing. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  29 

"  An  excellent  inspiration ;  it  has  led  to  great 
things  in  life,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Rose. 

"  I  wish  it  might  lead  me  to  Rome,"  said 
Hope ;  "  but,"  she  added,  with  a  sigh,  "  I  fear  I 
shall  never  get  to  Europe." 

"  Make  up  your  mind  to  go  and  you  will  do 
so,"  said  Charlie,  in  an  emphatic  tone.  "  I  bet 
on  Hope,  if  she  once  says  she  '11  do  a  thing." 

How  often  in  moments  of  discouragement  did 
these  words  come  back  to  the  girl's  mind,  helping 
her  in  the  daily  conflicts  of  life's  hopes  and  dis- 
appointments, raising  her  drooping  spirits,  and 
enabling  her  to  bear  up  against  the  trials  of  her 
lot.  There  is  nothing  so  strengthening  to  the 
tired  heart  and  brain  as  the  cheerily  spoken 
words,  "  Try  ;  if  you  will,  you  can." 


CHAPTER  III. 

A  FEW  miles  from  Newport,  its  front  looking 
over  broad  acres,  its  rear  facing  the  ocean,  an 
ancient  orchard  on  one  side,  and  undulating 
meadows  and  cornfields  on  the  other,  stands,  or 
stood,  at  the  time  of  this  story,  an  old-fashioned, 
square,  white  house,  with  piazza  all  around. 

The  handsome  clapboarding  of  the  colonial 
days  was  in  excellent  order,  the  whole  a  monu- 
ment of  the  substantial  building  of  its  time. 


30        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

The  stout  old  mansion,  had  it  been  so  in- 
clined, might  have  celebrated  at  this  period  its 
centennial  birthday,  decked  in  the  antiquated 
charms  of  immense  oaks  and  elms  and  gorgeous 
beeches,  the  copper  leaves  of  which  contrasted 
well  with  the  hawthorn  hedge,  tall  as  a  man, 
which  stood  at  the  gate,  and  in  the  "  leafy  month 
of  June  "  was  rich  with  white  blossoms,  the  air 
sweet  with  the  perfume  thereof. 

There,  too,  bloomed  flowers  seldom  seen  to- 
day in  fashionable  Newport,  where  nature  is 
made  to  imitate  art,  and  quotations  from  the 
poets  are  worked  out  in  plants,  to  satisfy  the 
cravings  of  wealth  for  the  novel  and  the  odd. 

The  sweetest  of  old  -  fashioned  roses,  pinks, 
larkspur,  ribbon-grass,  filled  the  flower  beds  at 
White  Cliff ;  and  around  them,  like  sentinels, 
tall  box  stood  guard,  giving  out  to  the  passing 
breeze  the  delicate  odor  which  generations  of 
nostrils  had  loved  to  smell. 

White  Cliff  was  so  called  by  Richard  Ashton, 
who  came  to  Newport  during  the  early  colonial 
days,  and  fancied  the  spot  well  enough  to  buy  it 
on  account  of  the  ledge  of  slate  rock  beneath  the 
Cliff,  which,  gleaming  like  silver  in  the  bright 
rays  of  the  sun,  recalled  to  his  mind  the  "  white 
cliffs  of  Dover,"  his  native  town.  White  Cliff 
had  been  the  birthplace  of  Hope's  father,  and  of 
three  generations  of  Ashtons. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  31 

Hope's  earliest  years  had  been  passed  in  the 
old  place ;  but  when  she  and  her  sister  had 
reached  the  respective  ages  of  six  and  eight, 
their  grandfather's  death,  breaking  up  the  family 
circle,  had  caused  the  sale  of  the  property,  and 
it  had  passed  into  the  hands  of  strangers. 

Young  as  Hope  was  at  the  time,  the  child 
well  remembered  the  way  in  which  the  old  judge 
had  laid  his  thin  hand  upon  her  little  head,  how 
he  had  drawn  her  towards  him,  and  in  husky 
tones  had  begged  her  "  to  think  sometimes  of 
her  old  grandfather  after  he  was  gone."  His 
last  wistful  glance  was  for  his  little  pet.  It  was 
therefore  a  source  of  surprise  to  many  that  he 
had  not  made  a  special  provision  in  his  will  for 
this  his  favorite  grandchild. 

"  Her  grandfather  always  seemed  to  care  for 
the  child,  yet  all  he  left  her  was  that  ugly  old 
chair,"  her  mother  would  remark,  when  convers- 
ing upon  that  prolific  subject  of  conversation, 
the  injustice  of  Judge  Ashton's  will,  which,  like 
many  testamentary  documents,  had  not  been 
productive  of  much  harmony  between  the  heirs. 

This  chair,  which  Hope  inherited  from  her 
grandfather,  would  have  enchanted  a  virtuoso, 
its  tall  back  a  marvel  of  carving,  representing 
two  crusaders  in  coats  of  mail,  holding  up  the 
family  crest  and  motto,  "  I  seek,  I  find ; "  its 
superb  lions'  feet,  its  huge  brass  nails  around 


32         STRA  Y  LEA  VES  FROM  NE  WPORT. 

the  seat,  and  the  branching  brass  candlesticks 
attached  to  the  curious  quaint  writing  -  desk, 
which  could  be  drawn  in  front  of  the  occupant 
of  this  great  chair,  —  all  were  most  decidedly 
antique.  Gladly  would  Mrs.  Ashton  have  rele- 
gated this  chair  to  the  garret,  for  she  had  little 
sympathy  with  the  present  taste  for  old  furni- 
ture, and  much  preferred  modern,  comfortable 
chairs  and  sofas.  But  the  big  old  chair  had  a 
fascination  for  its  little  owner,  who  begged  so 
hard  for  its  presence  in  her  room  that  it  was  al- 
lowed to  remain  in  the  midst  of  very  youthful 
surroundings.  The  chair  reminded  Hope  of  the 
giver ;  and  often,  as  she  grew  from  childhood  to 
womanhood,  she  wondered  if  her  grandfather 
had  meant  to  teach  her  a  lesson  of  self-reliance 
from  the  family  motto  in  the  quaint  old  carving. 

Perhaps  insensibly  the  words  so  constantly 
before  her  eyes  may  have  shaped  themselves 
into  her  thoughts ;  and  if  the  grim  oaken  war- 
riors could  tell  her  nothing  of  the  past,  and  of 
that  special  crusader  whose  prowess  in  the  Holy 
Land  had  given  him  the  right  to  hand  down  to 
his  descendants  the  bold  motto  which  to  many 
of  his  name  had  been  but  a  dead  letter,  the 
carved  old  faces  and  words  acted  like  a  spur  to 
the  energetic  nature  of  the  young  inheritor  of 
this  bit  of  furniture,  and  of  the  Ashton  name. 

"  I  seek,  I  find,"  Hope  often  repeated  to  her- 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  33 

self,  as  she  wandered  through  the  grounds  of 
White  Cliff,  to  which  she  was  always  gladly 
welcomed  by  the  farmer  and  his  wife,  who  hired 
the  farm  and  sold  in  Newport  all  they  could  get 
off  from  it. 

From  her  earliest  infancy  Hope's  health  had 
been  delicate ;  and  it  was  in  deference  to  the 
doctor's  prescription  of  plenty  of  country  air 
and  exercise  that  her  mother  had  been  induced 
to  overcome  her  dread  of  sunburn,  freckles, 
wear  and  tear  of  clothes,  to  say  nothing  of  wild 
ways  likely  to  be  acquired  in  romping  with  the 
farmer's  children. 

But  the  claims  of  Hope's  constitution  pre- 
vailed over  every  objection.  Farmer  Truman, 
who  had  lived  boy  and  man  upon  the  place,  and 
had  a  deep-seated  reverence  for  any  "  of  them 
as  ought  to  be  there,"  was  a  proud  and  happy 
man  when  he  lifted  the  child  into  his  wagon 
and  drove  off  with  her  to  White  Cliff,  where 
she  was  made  much  of  by  the  whole  Truman 
family. 

Hope  was  always  delighted  to  obtain  permis- 
sion to  go  to  the  farm  in  her  plainest  attire,  to 
feel  that  she  had  nothing  on  to  spoil,  but  could 
enjoy  herself  unrestrainedly.  It  was  much  nicer 
than  to  be  dressed  up  in  her  best  to  spend  the 
day  in  Newport  with  other  little  girls  in  fine 
frocks. 


34        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

At  the  farm  Hope  learned  to  make  butter  in 
the  dairy,  or  she  sat  in  the  ox-cart  behind  the 
patient  beasts  of  burden,  while  they  deliberately 
pursued  their  way  down  the  rough  gully-road  to 
the  beach  below,  in  quest  of  seaweed  or  gravel. 

She  loved  to  ramble  along  the  shore,  to  gather 
shells,  or  make  ochre  and  slate  pies  with  her 
young  companions.  She  loved  to  sit  in  the 
apple  orchard,  with  her  doll  in  her  arms,  where, 
enthroned  on  an  old  branch,  she  seemed  to  the 
farmer's  children  an  uncrowned  princess,  as  she 
repeated  to  them  the  marvelous  fairy  tales  she 
had  read,  and  sometimes  her  own  compositions ; 
wonderful  stories,  to  which  they  listened  with  the 
most  rapt  attention. 

Another  of  Hope's  delights  was  to  mount  the 
old  farm  mare,  when  that  devoted  animal  had 
performed  its  legitimate  duties  and  was  fairly 
entitled  to  a  rest,  which  the  children  were  never 
willing  to  give  it. 

Thus  studying  nature  in  its  own  school-room, 
Hope  learned  far  more  of  its  beauties  and  secrets 
than  she  could  have  acquired  from  books,  and 
mind  and  body  were  exercised  together. 

As  the  child  grew  stronger  and  older,  these 
visits  to  the  farm  were  restricted  to  Saturdays, 
when  there  were  no  music  or  dancing  lessons. 

When  her  hours  with  nature  grew  fewer  and 
farther  between,  Hope  appreciated  them  all  the 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  35 

more.  Emerging  from  childhood  into  woman- 
hood the  beloved  spot  became  her  dreamland, 
where  she  built  her  airy  castles  of  hope  ;  where 
she  thought  of  the  future,  and  wondered  what  it 
might  have  in  store  for  her. 

As  Warren  Hastings,  a  boy  dreaming  and 
fishing  in  the  stream  which  ran  past  Daylesford, 
was  filled  with  the  idea  that  in  some  way  at 
some  future  day  the  broad  acres  which  had 
passed  out  of  the  possession  of  his  family  would 
by  his  own  exertions  be  his  again,  so  this  girl, 
as  she  sat  on  the  rocks  at  White  Cliff,  watching 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide,  which  seemed  to 
her  to  typify  the  changing  fortunes  of  her  race, 
had  as  strong  a  conviction  as  had  the  future 
Governor  General  of  India,  that  she,  too,  by 
her  own  efforts,  might  one  day  win  back  from 
the  hands  of  strangers  the  home  of  her  an- 
cestors. 

This  idea  was  the  lodestar  of  her  daily  life, 
the  dream  of  her  solitary  hours. 

It  was  of  White  Cliff  she  had  thought  while 
listening  to  the  lecture  at  the  Opera  House, 
which  gave  her  practical  ideas,  and  showed  her 
the  possible  in  actual  life. 

Fortunately  for  Hope  her  temperament,  though 
sanguine,  did  not  lead  her  into  the  visionary  to 
the  exclusion  of  the  practical.  She  measured 
her  resources  with  a  view  to  their  utility.  Much 


36         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

as  she  enjoyed  castle  -  building,  she  endeavored 
to  give  a  basis  of  reality  to  this  fragile  archi- 
tecture. 

She  surprised  her  partner  with  her  own  am- 
bition, and  she  also  urged  upon  him  patient 
perseverance  and  industry.  Her  precept  and 
example  induced  him  to  endeavor  to  shake  off 
his  natural  indolence,  and  to  make  the  best  of 
his  talents.  Alternately  scolding  and  encourag- 
ing him,  his  young  mentor  kept  Charlie  up  to 
his  work.  She  succeeded  in  making  him  take 
an  interest  in  his  studies  ;  and  to  the  great  sat- 
isfaction of  his  mother,  to  whom  the  boy  had 
been  a  constant  source  of  anxiety,  Charlie  Wil- 
liams graduated  from  the  Newport  High  School 
with  credit,  and  passed  his  examination  for  en- 
tering Harvard. 

All  this  materially  interfered  with  the  pursuit 
of  art  and  the  Rose,  Bush  &  Co.  business. 

But  all  his  spare  hours  Charlie  spent  in  the 
studio  at  the  Rosery,  which  Mrs.  Rose  had  fitted 
up  for  her  young  artists.  The  mantel-piece  had 
proved  a  great  success ;  and  a  Boston  house  had 
given  several  orders  to  the  firm,  Charlie  acting 
as  business  manager. 

As  the  miscalled  spring  months  of  Newport 
brought  to  its  residents  the  recollection  that 
preparations  for  the  summer  must  be  made, 
Hope  found  her  spare  time  for  art  grow  more 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  37 

and  more  limited.  Anxious  to  fulfill  the  orders 
which  came  to  the  firm,  the  young  artist  rose 
early  every  morning  and  painted  several  hours 
before  breakfast ;  and  often  when  the  rest  of  the 
household  had  been  long  asleep,  she  was  work- 
ing diligently. 

But  the  hours  stolen  from  slumber  did  not 
revenge  themselves  on  her  health,  as  might  have 
been  the  ease  had  her  enterprising  nature  not 
been  kept  up  by  the  hope  of  success  and  interest 
in  her  congenial  occupation. 

Youth  and  life  seemed  to  promise  so  much, 
and  art  was  so  attractive  to  her,  encouraged  as 
she  felt  by  the  consciousness  of  her  own  powers, 
that  her  eyelids  scarcely  missed  the  sleep  her 
busy  fingers  and  active  brain  denied  them. 

Mrs.  Ashton  saw  with  pleasure  her  daughter's 
intimacy  with  one  of  Newport's  most  hospitable 
residents,  at  whose  house  Hope  was  brought  in 
contact  with  many  desirable  acquaintances  dur- 
ing "  the  season,"  and  where,  if  she  played  her 
cards  well,  she  might,  thought  the  mother,  "find 
an  eligible  parti."  Mrs.  Ashton  was  quite  aware 
that  Hope  possessed  the  trump  cards  of  youth, 
beauty,  and  intelligence ;  the  only  difficulty  lay 
in  her  playing  them  well.  "  The  child  is  so  ro- 
mantic," she  often  said  to  herself,  "  that  she  is 
quite  capable  of  losing  her  heart  to  some  penni- 
less genius." 


88         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

The  mother,  however,  prudently  said  this  to 
herself,  kept  an  eye  upon,  and  gave  a  discrim- 
inating welcome  to,  the  different  admirers  whom 
Hope's  attractions  brought  to  the  house. 

Mrs.  Ashton's  own  health  not  permitting  her 
to  indulge  in  late  hours,  to  the  ever-ready  chap- 
eron was  most  cheerfully  delegated  the  task  of 
taking  Hope  to  balls ;  and  as  Mrs.  Rose  enjoyed 
society  and  never  objected  to  sitting-  out  a  Ger- 
man, she  was  a  most  delightful  matron  for  the 
young  girl,  who  fully  enjoyed  dancing. 

Everything  seemed  to  combine  to  make  life 
agreeable  to  the  young  optimist,  who  had  the 
happy  faculty  of  seeing  the  sunshine  even  though 
sometimes  obscured  by  a  passing  cloud. 

Summer  had  come  and  gone  so  rapidly  that 
almost  before  she  was  aware  of  it,  the  golden  Oc- 
tober was  making  Newport  bright  with  its  rich 
tints,  and  fashion  was  decking  humanity  in  col- 
ors to  harmonize  with  the  flowers  and  sea  and 
sky. 

The  gay  season  was  over,  but  lunches  and 
dinners,  with  occasional  dances  and  the  inevita- 
ble picnic,  kept  Newport  quite  alive ;  and  Hope 
continued  to  bear  away  from  hospitable  boards 
pretty  cards,  with  her  own  name  in  her  hostess' 
caligraphy ;  and  she  sometimes  smiled  to  recog- 
nize her  own  design  in  the  souvenir  of  the  feast. 
The  Rose  Bush  cards  had  found  a  ready  sale, 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  39 

and  the  proceeds  had  made  very  perceptible 
additions  to  the  receipts  of  the  firm,  the  identity 
of  the  members  quite  unsuspected  by  their  fash- 
ionable patrons. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  child  ?  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Rose  one  morning,  when  Hope  with  flushed  face 
and  excited  manner  appeared  in  the  studio,  and 
after  a  brief  and  silent  kiss  upon  her  hostess' 
cheek,  threw  herself  into  a  chair  and  impatiently 
beat  the  ground  with  one  foot. 

"  Some  busybody  —  I  know  it 's  a  woman  — 
has  been  putting  the  idiotic  idea  into  mamma's 
head  that  Charlie  and  I  are  in  love  with  one 
another.  We  have  often  been  seen  talking  ear- 
nestly. As  if  one  could  not  talk  earnestly  about 
anything  but  love ; "  and  Hope's  contemptuous 
tone  with  regard  to  the  tender  passion  was  most 
expressive.  "  If  we  were  two  boys,"  she  con- 
tinued, in  the  same  impetuous  strain,  "  we  might 
talk  together  all  day  and  no  one  would  care; 
but  just  because  he  is  a  boy  and  I  a  girl,  we 
must  be  in  love.  It  is  too  stupid,  too  tiresome, 
this  wretched  gossip ;  we  cannot  move  in  New- 
port without  being  talked  about." 

"  I  can  hardly  fancy  your  mother  considering 
Charlie  in  the  light  of  a  good  match,"  said  Mrs. 
Rose,  laughing,  "  but  I  must  say  I  never  thought 
of  him  as  a  dangerous  companion." 

"I   should    think    not,"   interrupted    Hope. 


40         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"Charlie  might  as  well  be  in  love  with  his 
grandmother." 

"Even  the  rubric  provides  against  such  an 
eventuality  as  that,"  replied  Mrs.  Rose,  with 
much  gravity ;  "  it  says,  you  know,  a  man  may 
not  marry  his  grandmother." 

"  Now  you  are  laughing  at  me,"  said  Hope, 
laughing  too  in  spite  of  her  annoyance.  But  you 
know,  dear  Mrs.  Rose,  that  Charlie  seems  such  a 
boy  to  me  ;  just  my  age,  but  he  is  years  younger 
in  his  ways,  and  I  have  known  him  all  my  life, 
and  it  is  ridiculous,"  she  added  emphatically. 

"  His  youthful  grandmother  has  been  of  great 
service  to  Charlie,"  said  Mrs.  Rose,  looking  scru- 
tinizingly  at  her  young  companion. 

"The  child  is  still  fancy  free,"  she  said  to 
herself,  "and  if  Charlie's  heart  be  touched,  a 
pure  affection  at  his  age  will  do  him  no  harm ; 
it  may  keep  him  out  of  mischief."  Then  she 
resumed  aloud,  "  I  had  not  believed  Charlie  ca- 
pable of  the  industry  and  perseverance  he  has 
shown." 

"  I  hope  he  will  do  well  at  college,"  answered 
Hope  eagerly. 

But  Charlie  Williams  was  not  destined  to  go 
to  college,  or  to  continue  to  be  a  source  of  anx- 
iety to  Mrs.  Ashton's  maternal  breast ;  his  rich 
and  influential  brother-in-law  was  so  much  struck 
with  the  talent  displayed  in  a  clay  group  of  the 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  41 

young  man's  modeling  that  he  offered  to  send 
the  nascent  Cellini  to  Rome  to  study  with  a  dis- 
tinguished artist,  with  whom  he  had  long  been 
on  intimate  terms. 

"  It  is  a  grand  opportunity,"  said  Mrs.  Rose, 
as  Charlie  talked  over  the  proposed  plan  with 
his  friends  at  the  Rosery. 

One  evening  he  came  into  the  study  in  a  state 
of  excitement.  "My  brother-in-law  goes  to  New 
York  to-night,  and  I  must  go  with  him,  and  sail 
almost  immediately,  if  I  accept  the  offer,"  he 
said,  glancing  towards  Hope. 

"  If  you  accept !  "  repeated  Hope.  "  You 
surely  do  not  think  of  refusing  such  a  generous 
offer." 

"How  inconsistent  you  women  are,"  he  re- 
plied impatiently.  "  A  short  time  ago  you  in- 
sisted upon  my  going  to  college ;  now  you  would 
have  me  give  that  up  and  turn  Bohemian." 

"  That  is  just  what  Hope  would  not  have  you 
do.  She  would  have  you  buckle  down  to  art  as 
she  urged  your  doing  to  Greek.  Is  it  not  so, 
Hope  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Rose,  turning  to  the  former, 
who  was  looking  somewhat  serious  at  the  thought 
of  parting  with  the  companion  of  her  art  studies. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Hope  eagerly.  "  I  do 
hope  you  will  work  hard,  Charlie,  and  be  a 
credit  to  your  friends,  and  to  my  scolding,"  she 
added,  laughing.  Then  in  a  different  tone  she 


42       STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

said,  "  I  shall  miss  you  terribly,  and  I  shall  envy 
your  being  in  Rome.  I  wish  I  had  a  good  fairy 
to  send  me  there." 

'*  I  wish  so,  too,"  echoed  Charlie,  so  fervently 
that  Mrs.  Rose,  who  caught  the  expression  of 
the  young  man's  face  as  he  spoke,  thought  to 
herself  that  it  was  quite  time  for  the  handsome 
ineligible  to  be  taking  himself  off. 

"  It  is  far  better  for  you  to  go  to  Rome  than 
to  college,"  continued  Hope,  as  if  in  reply  to  his 
former  remark.  "  You  know  you  never  did  care 
for  books,  and  you  do  care  for  art." 

"  I  know  what  I  care  for  a  great  deal  more 
than  art,"  muttered  Charlie. 

If  Hope  caught  his  words  she  only  answered 
them  by  turning  from  the  table  drawer,  in  which 
she  had  for  the  past  few  moments  been  busily 
searching  for  the  photograph  which  she  now 
handed  him. 

"  Here,  Charlie,"  said  she,  in  a  tone  she  tried 
to  render  gay,  but  which  betrayed  the  regret  she 
felt  at  the  parting,  "  here  is  your  school-marm's 
picture,  to  keep  you  in  mind  of  her  advice.  Do 
write  often." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  Charlie,  write  very  often  ;  re- 
member, Hope  and  I  expect  regular  bulletins  of 
your  doings,"  said  Mrs.  Rose.  "  We  expect 
great  things  of  you." 

"  If  I  ever  do  amount  to  anything,  it  will  be 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  43 

all  owing  to  you,  Hope,"  said  the  young  sculptor, 
as  he  crushed  his  late  partner's  rings  against  her 
fingers  in  such  a  vigorous  farewell  grasp  that  he 
brought  the  tears  to  her  eyes. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MEANWHILE  a  taste  for  high  art  and  the  aes- 
thetic had  penetrated  the  farmhouse  at  White 
Cliff.  The  farmer's  daughters,  who  had  grown 
into  comely  young  women,  played  and  sang  sen- 
timental music  on  week  evenings,  and  psalms 
and  hymns  on  Sundays,  with  the  neighboring 
young  farmers,  their  admirers,  and  found  time 
from  more  practical  work  to  adorn  their  best 
parlor  with  artistic  bead-work  and  fancy  tidies. 

One  of  the  sons  who  had  a  mechanical  genius, 
invented  a  novel  kind  of  incubator,  which  proved 
most  successful  in  hatching  chickens,  turkeys, 
and  ducks  at  all  seasons  of  the  year,  and  enabled 
him  to  have  a  constant  supply  of  poultry  for  the 
Newport  market. 

His  brother,  who  had  attended  school  dili- 
gently when  there  was  not  much  to  do  at  the 
farm,  made  a  practical  use  of  the  chemistry  he 
had  learned,  and  introduced  science  into  the  cul- 
tivation of  the  soil.  He  contributed  likewise  to 
an  agricultural  magazine,  under  a  classical  pseu- 


44        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

donym,  and  interlarded  his  articles  with  quota- 
tions from  the  Georgics  of  Virgil,  whom  he  de- 
clared to  have  been  as  good  a  farmer  as  he  was 
a  poet. 

If  the  old-fashioned  farmer  tried  to  enter  his 
protest  against  the  introduction  of  so  many  new- 
fangled notions  and  labor-saving  machines,  he 
was  told  that  he  was  "  old  fogy,  not  progressive, 
or  not  up  to  the  times."  If  he  insisted  that 
the  crops  nowadays  were  no  better  than  they 
used  to  be,  one  son  would  point  triumphantly 
to  the  gnarled  old  apple-trees,  which  had  quite 
given  up  yielding  the  famous  "golden  pippins," 
until  science,  taking  the  orchard  in  hand,  had 
caused  its  rejuvenescence,  and  given  it  a  respec- 
table harvest  of  apples  in  its  green  old  age. 
And  the  other  son  would  show  remunerating 
results  of  his  invention,  and  the  good  farmer  was 
silenced,  if  not  convinced. 

Hope  took  great  interest  in  the  improvements 
at  White  Cliff.  She  had  more  control  of  her 
own  movements  and  was  enabled  to  visit  her 
favorite  spot  of tener,  having  that  season  received 
from  her  brother-in-law  the  present  of  a  village 
cart,  and  pony,  in  return  for  a  capital  picture 
she  had  painted  for  him  of  his  favorite  racer, 
which  had  won  the  cup  at  the  Jerome  Park 
spring  races. 

IIo]>e's  visits  to  the  farm  were  always  hailed 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  45 

with  pleasure  ;  the  younger  members  of  the  fam- 
ily felt  sure  that  they  would  find  in  her  an  ad- 
vocate of  their  progressive  ideas,  and  the  old 
folks,  however  conservative  they  might  be,  ex- 
hibited with  parental  pride  the  prizes  awarded 
to  "  Ben "  at  the  State  Fair,  for  the  great 
squashes  raised  by  his  "  a-doctorin'  of  the  land," 
and  delighted  in  showing  "  Bill's  grand  orphan 
asylum,  goin'  agin  natur  a-hatchin'  chickens 
without  no  mothers." 

"  What  do  you  do  with  such  a  vast  amount 
of  seaweed  ?  "  said  Hope,  as  she  sat  on  a  large 
stone  on  the  shore,  one  day,  watching  Ben  load 
a  cart  with  a  fresh  supply  of  the  weed,  thrown 
up  on  the  beach  by  the  late  gale. 

"  Put  it  on  the  land,"  answered  the  young 
man.  "  Seaweed  's  first-rate  manure." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  answered  Hope,  "  the  land 
everywhere  about  Newport  is  strewn  with  it ; 
but  there  is  a  great  pile  over  yonder  which  has 
been  bleaching  in  the  sun  for  months.  Why 
not  convert  some  of  that  into  kelp  ?  " 

The  young  farmer  suspended  the  action  of 
his  pitchfork  to  reply  that  as  seaweed  brought 
eight  dollars  a  load,  it  paid  very  well  to  cart  as 
much  as  possible  in  its  native  state,  and  sell 
what  he  did  not  use  on  the  farm. 

"  Still  you  might  make  some  into  kelp,  and 
that  would  make  the  land  richer,"  insisted  Hope. 


46         STRA  Y  LEA  VES  FROM  NE  WPORT. 

"  Kelp  makes  good  top-dressing,  does  it  not  ? 
Your  potatoes,  Ben,  need  improving ;  they  are 
far  different  from  those  I  used  to  gather  in  my 
apron  when  I  was  a  child  and  came  out  to  spend 
the  day  here.  How  I  enjoyed  the  potatoes  we 
roasted  by  the  fire  we  kindled  on  the  beach ! 
None  ever  tasted  half  so  good."  And  Hope 
gave  a  sigh  to  the  memory  of  her  short-frock, 
potato-roasting  days. 

"  I  have  thought  some  of  making  kelp  out  of 
that  ere  pile,"  said  Ben,  reflectively,  chewing  a 
bit  of  seaweed  and  looking  in  the  direction  of 
the  mass  indicated  by  his  companion. 

"  I  would,  if  I  were  you,"  responded  Hope  ea- 
gerly. "  You  might  have  a  Rhode  Island  clam- 
bake at  the  same  time,"  she  added  laughing. 
"  Get  up  a  kelp  company  of  your  neighbors  and 
build  by  subscription  a  mammoth  kiln.  That 
fireplace  in  the  ground  at  Rocky  Point,  where 
clams  are  roasted  covered  up  in  seaweed,  would 
be  a  capital  pattern  for  one  down  on  that  poor 
piece  of  land.  This  seaweed,"  she  continued, 
taking  up  a  bit,  "  would  make  excellent  kelp ; 
it  is  exactly  like  that  of  Scotland  and  Wales, 
where  large  fortunes  are  realized  from  kelp  by 
land-owners  on  the  sea -coast.  Making  kelp 
gives  employment  to  a  large  number  of  persons 
in  those  countries.  There  is  an  interesting  ac- 
count of  it  in  a  book  we  have  in  our  library. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  47 

It  does  seem  a  pity,"  added  Hope,  "  not  to  util- 
ize the  sources  of  wealth,  nature  gives  so  liber- 
ally. No  end  of  things  might  be  made  out  of 
that  mass  of  seaweed  lying  idle,  —  soap,  glass, 
dye,  iodine  —  Why  should  you  not  make  iodine, 
Ben  ?  "  exclaimed  Hope  suddenly,  as  if  inspired 
by  the  idea.  "  A  great  deal  of  the  drug  is  used 
in  medicine,  and  it  is  mostly  imported." 

"  Iodine  is  made  in  this  country,"  said  Ben. 
"  To  a  certain  extent,"  said  Hope.  "  I  asked  a 
doctor  all  about  it  once.  He  came  to  our  house 
to  paint  my  brother-in-law's  swollen  nose.  I 
accidentally  knocked  over  the  bottle  of  iodine 
and  spilled  it  on  the  carpet,  which  was  not  im- 
proved by  the  application.  The  doctor  told  me 
it  was  very  expensive,  imported  stuff.  Now, 
why  should  we  not  make  in  America  as  good 
iodine  as  is  made  in  Europe,  if  we  have  the 
materials;  just  as  we  are  making  as  beautiful 
and  even  better  cut  glass,  and  silk,  and  lots  of 
things  ?  " 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  asked  the  young  farmer,  half 
convinced  by  the  confident  tone  of  his  companion. 
"  Yes,  indeed,"  exclaimed  Hope,  warming  with 
her  subject.  "  I  believe  in  native  enterprise. 
It  is  an  easy  step  from  kelp  to  iodine.  You 
only  want  a  simple  apparatus ;  and  to  you  who 
have  studied  chemistry,  the  process  of  convert- 
ing kelp  into  iodine  is  very  clear." 


48        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  As  clear  as  mud,"  replied  the  young  man 
laughing,  "  but "  — 

"  But  me  no  buts,"  said  Hope  oratorically ; 
"  buts  are  the  clogs  to  progress.  Suppose  that 
the  enterprising  Newporter  who  made  a  fortune 
out  of  cod  liver  oil,  by  rendering  it  so  pure  and 
agreeable  as  a  medicine  that  '  children  cry  for 
it,'  had  stopped  for  '  buts,'  where  would  be  the 
fine  house  he  built  from  the  proceeds  of  the  oil  ? 
Where  so  many  unbuilt  houses  are,  —  in  the 
imagination,  that  very  extensive  property  of  the 
unpractical  or  unsuccessful.  You,  Ben,  might 
become  an  iodine  Caswell,  if  you  gave  your  mind 
to  it." 

"  I  think  it  requires  something  besides  mind, 
and  that  is  money,"  replied  Ben. 

"If  I  agree  to  furnish  the  capital  to  buy  the 
seaweed  from  your  father,  pay  for  putting  iip  a 
wooden  shed  in  which  you  could  have  the  retort 
to  distill  the  iodine  from  kelp,  and  give  you 
something  for  your  labor,  will  you  agree  to  try 
the  experiment  of  manufacturing  iodine  for  the 
trade  ?  " 

"  You,  Miss  Hope  ?  "  exclaimed  the  astonished 
young  farmer. 

"  Yes,  I,"  replied  Hope,  calmly ;  "  I  have 
money  of  my  own  with  which  I  can  do  abso- 
lutely as  I  please,  and  I  have  a  fancy  to  invest 
it  in  making  iodine.  If  it  should  pay,  you  and 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  49 

I  will  share  the  profits ;  if  not,  I  shall  only  have 
lost  my  money,  and  no  one  but  ourselves  will 
be  the  wiser." 

Hardly  had  Hope  finished  speaking  when  she 
felt  the  plaid  upon  which  she  was  sitting  tugged 
from  under  her,  and  herself  violently  thrown 
from  her  seat.  Before  Ben's  exclamation  of 
astonishment  was  fairly  out  of  his  mouth,  and 
he  had  had  time  to  run  to  the  assistance  of  the 
young  lady,  a  stern  voice  called  off  a  huge  dog, 
and  the  next  moment  a  tall,  powerfully  -  built 
man  had  taken  the  plaid  from  the  animal's 
teeth.  When  Hope,  having  recovered  her  feet, 
looked  about  her  for  the  cause  of  all  this  con- 
fusion, the  stranger  was  replacing  the  shawl  in 
its  former  position. 

"  I  hope  you  will  excuse  my  dog's  rudeness," 
he  said,  lifting  his  hat  with  the  ease  of  a  man 
of  the  world.  "  The  fact  is,"  he  added,  smiling 
and  displaying  a  double  row  of  ivory,  which 
quite  redeemed  the  sombre  cast  of  the  rest  of 
his  face,  "your  plaid  is  so  exactly  like  one  I 
once  owned  that  Duke  thought  he  was  only 
claiming  his  master's  property." 

The  dog,  at  the  sound  of  the  familiar  voice, 
looked  up  anxiously  into  his  master's  face ;  then 
seeing  the  smile  which  showed  he  was  restored 
to  favor,  calmly  stretched  his  length  of  limb 
upon  the  beach  at  the  feet  of  the  two. 


50        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  What  a  splendid  animal !  "  exclaimed  Hope, 
patting  the  dog's  huge  head. 

"  I  never  see  such  a  dog  in  Newport  before," 
remarked  Ben.  "  What  breed  is  he,  sir  ?  " 

"  A  St.  Bernard,  is  he  not  ?  "  asked  Hope, 
looking  for  the  first  time  into  the  stranger's  face, 
and  thinking  he  was  as  peculiar  looking  as  his 
dog. 

"Yes,  a  pure  St.  Bernard,"  was  the  reply. 
"  Large  as  he  is,  Duke  is  but  a  nine  months'  old 
pup  ;  a  lady  brought  him  from  Europe  in  a  muff 
box,  when  he  was  but  a  few  weeks  old.  Look- 
ing at  him  now  you  can  hardly  imagine  him  so 
small,  even  as  a  pup." 

"  In  a  muff  box  !  Is  it  possible  !  "  exclaimed 
Hope,  and  Ben  whistled  an  expressive  note. 

"  And  now,"  said  the  stranger,  "  having  apolo- 
gized for  our  intrusion,  Duke  and  I  will  take 
ourselves  off  before  any  more  mischief  is  done," 
and  the  dog-owner's  deep-set  eyes,  under  their 
cliff  of  brow,  over  which  hung  a  mass  of  bluish- 
black  hair,  glanced  at  the  quite  uninjured  shawl, 
and  then  rested  for  an  instant  with  earnest 
scrutiny  upon  the  blushing  face  of  the  young 
girl. 

The  next  moment,  calling  his  dog,  raising  his 
hat  to  Hope,  and  nodding  to  Ben,  the  proprietor 
of  the  St.  Bernard  sprang  quickly  up  the  gully 
to  the  cliff  above,  along  which  he  was  soon 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  51 

rapidly  pursuing  his  way,  followed  by  the  huge 
dog. 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  gentleman  heard  what 
we  were  talking  about,  Ben  ?  "  said  Hope,  when 
she  had  watched  for  some  moments  the  retreat- 
ing figures  of  man  and  beast. 

"  Could  n't  have  heard  one  word,"  answered 
Ben  ;  "he  was  too  far  off." 

"  Oh,  Ben,  we  don't  know  how  near  he  was ; 
he  spoke  immediately  to  the  dog,  and  I  was 
talking  at  the  very  time  I  was  upset ;  "  and  Hope 
laughed  at  the  recollection  of  the  scene,  and 
blushing  at  the  same  time,  she  continued,  "I 
hope  he  did  not  hear,  it  would  have  sounded  so 
silly  to  one  not  interested"  — 

"  In  iodine,"  said  Ben,  completing  the  sen- 
tence. "  I  wish,  Miss  Hope,"  he  added,  "  you 
would  let  me  have  a  look  at  that  book  you  read 
about  the  seaweed  in ;  it  must  be  real  interest- 
ing." 

"  I  will  show  it  to  you  the  next  time  you  come 
to  the  house,"  said  Hope,  "  and  then  you  can 
tell  me  what  you  think  about  my  idea." 

"I  do  hope  he  did  not  hear  our  conversation," 
thought  Hope,  as  she  drove  home,  and  the  form 
of  the  stranger  flitted  before  her  mind's  eye. 
"  Perhaps  he  did  not ;  and  if  he  did  catch  a  few 
words  he  might  not  have  understood  their 
sense." 


52         STRA Y  LEA  VES  FROM  NE  WPORT. 

Thus  alternately  tormenting  and  comforting 
herself,  Hope  passed  the  rest  of  the  day  and 
evening. 

There  were  some  guests  at  dinner  that  day, 
and  Hope  forced  herself  to  take  part  in  the  con- 
versation, and  to  assist  in  entertaining  her  com- 
pany, but  she  found  it  difficult  not  to  relapse 
into  fits  of  abstraction,  and  was  glad  when  the 
time  arrived  for  her  to  be  at  liberty  to  escape  to 
her  own  apartment.  Her  mother,  accustomed 
to  her  daughter's  quiet  mood,  would  have 
thought  nothing  of  her  silence,  had  she  not  been 
for  some  time  cherishing  the  "  wish  which  was 
akin  to  the  thought,"  that  the  attentions  of 
Hope's  constant  lawn  tennis  partner  might  be 
making  an  impression  upon  the  girl's  heart. 

Such  lovely  bouquets  from  such  a  very  good- 
looking  and  quite  desirable  young  man  could 
not  fail  of  producing  their  effect.  No  doubt 
Hope  was  thinking  of  the  words  which  were 
already  being  told  in  the  language  of  flowers. 
"  The  dear  child  is  longing  to  dream  out  '  love's 
young  dream  '  uninterruptedly,"  thought  the  ju- 
dicious parent,  as  she  bestowed  a  more  than  usu- 
ally fond  kiss  upon  her  daughter's  cheek,  and 
telling  her  she  looked  tired,  bade  her  go  to  bed 
as  quickly  as  possible. 

No  vision  of  the  champion  tennis  player  and 
excellent  dancer,  with  whom  Hope  most  decid- 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  53 

eclly  enjoyed  playing  and  dancing,  crossed  the 
young  girl's  dreams  that  night. 

They  were  most  unpleasantly  disturbed  by  the 
thoughts  of  the  scrutinizing  glance  of  a  pair  of 
deep-set,  mysterious  eyes ;  and  she  heard  in  her 
dreams  the  rich,  full  tones  which  suited  the 
stranger's  bold  proportions.  She  wondered  what 
possible  connection  Mrs.  Rose's  shawl,  borrowed 
by  her  a  few  days  before,  could  have  with  this 
man.  Often  she  started  in  her  sleep ;  and  once 
in  her  uneasy  slumber  she  fancied  she  was  being 
stifled,  that  she  felt  something  lying  across  her 
breast ;  she  put  out  her  hand,  and  it  met  a  warm 
pulsation  under  her  touch.  She  opened  her 
eyes,  half  expecting  to  see  the  great  St.  Ber- 
nard's huge  form,  but,  instead,  she  recognized 
her  own  Black  Prince,  her  devoted  Newfound- 
land, Charlie's  parting  gift,  which  every  night 
lay  outside  her  door.  He  had  doubtless  heard 
her  groan  in  her  sleep,  had  pushed  open  her 
door,  crept  into  the  room,  and  jumped  upon  the 
bed  ready  to  protect  her  should  she  need  him. 

Finding  no  cause  for  alarm,  the  devoted  dog 
had  quietly  nestled  up  to  his  sleeping  mistress, 
and  lay  watching  her. 

A  succession  of  hopelessly  rainy  days,  joined 
to  her  mother's  violent  attack  of  neuralgia,  to 
which  Mrs.  Ashton  was  a  martyr,  kept  Hope 
indoors,  and  occupied  her  time  and  attention  to 
the  exclusion  of  other  thoughts. 


54        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

One  day,  about  a  week  after  her  last  visit  to 
White  Cliff,  Hope  was  told  that  Ben  Truman 
was  in  the  kitchen  and  would  like  to  see  her. 
"  Ask  him  to  walk  up,"  said  Hope,  who  was 
busy  with  some  housekeeping  accounts  in  the 
library. 

Accordingly  the  young  farmer  appeared ;  and 
after  he  had  answered  satisfactorily  all  questions 
concerning  the  health  of  the  Truman  family, 
and  had  handed  the  young  housekeeper  her  but- 
ter book  with  the  amount  of  pounds  he  had 
brought  that  morning  duly  set  down,  he  hesi- 
tated, twirled  his  hat  in  his  hands,  and  then 
said,  rather  diffidently,  "  Would  you  mind,  Miss 
Hope,  letting  me  see  that  seaweed  book  you  was 
talking  about  ?  " 

Hope  took  a  large  volume  from  the  shelf,  and 
opening  it  read  aloud :  "  '  Iodine  is  a  non-metallic 
element,  discovered  in  1812,  by  Courtois,  a  soda 
manufacturer  of  Paris.  It  exists  in  certain 
marine  vegetables,  particularly  the  fuci  or  com- 
mon seaweeds,  which  have  long  been  its  most 
abundant  natural  source.  Although  most  largely 
produced  in  South  America,  iodine  is  still  ob- 
tained from  kelp,  and  in  Great  Britain  is  manu- 
factured chiefly  in  Glasgow.' 

"  Here  again  is  a  paragraph  which  is  to  the 
point,"  continued  Hope,  turning  over  a  page  and 
then  reading  the  following :  "  '  Kelp  is  procured 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  55 

by  the  incineration  of  various  kinds  of  sea- 
weeds, principally  the  algSB  and  fuel  which 
grow  on  the  rocky  coasts  of  many  countries. 
The  plants  are  fermented  in  heaps,  then  dried 
and  afterwards  burnt  to  ashes  in  ovens  roughly 
made  of  brick  or  stone  and  built  in  the  ground.' 
There !  you  see,"  said  the  reader,  closing  the 
book,  "  that  large  mass  of  seaweed  which  has 
been  drying  so  long  in  the  sun  at  White  Cliff  is 
quite  ready  for  use.  Now  let  us  turn  to  another 
page  with  the  illustrations  of  the  fuci.  Here, 
for  instance,  is  the  laminaria  buccinalis,  found 
to  contain  more  iodine  than  any  other  algae. 
Now,"  Hope  added,  "  I  will  read  what  is  said 
about  the  manufacture  of  kelp  in  Great  Brit- 
ain :  '  The  employment  being  new  to  the  in- 
habitants, the  country  people  opposed  it  with 
the  utmost  vehemence.  Their  forefathers  had 
never  thought  of  making  kelp,  and  it  would  ap- 
pear that  they  themselves  had  no  wish  to  render 
their  posterity  wiser  in  the  matter.'  " 

"  Is  n't  that  just  like  Newport !  "  interrupted 
Ben  ;  "  there  always  is  opposition  to  everything 
new ;  it  took  years  to  get  the  railroad  to  Boston 
built ;  and  I  am  sure  the  Newport  and  Middle- 
town  people  fought  hard  against  the  city  having 
water  introduced.  But  I  beg  pardon,  Miss  Hope, 
for  interrupting  you ;  please  go  on." 

"  '  So  violent  was  the  resistance,'  "  continued 


66        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

Hope,  reading,  "  *  that  officers  of  justice  were 
found  necessary  to  protect  the  individuals  em- 
ployed in  the  work,  and  several  trials  were  the 
result  of  these  outrages.  It  was  gravely  pleaded 
in  a  court  of  law  on  the  part  of  the  defendants 
that  the  suffocating  smoke  that  issued  from  the 
kelp  kilns  would  sicken  or  kill  every  species  of 
fish  on  the  coast,  blast  the  corn  and  grass  on 
the  farms,  and  introduce  diseases  of  various 
kinds.  The  influential  individuals  who  had  com- 
menced the  manufacture  succeeded  at  last  in  es- 
tablishing it,  and  the  benefits  which  accrued  to 
the  community  soon  wrought  a  change  in  public 
feeling.'  " 

"Do  you  suppose,  Miss  Hope,  I  could  find 
that  book  in  the  People's  Library  ?  There  's 
a  mighty  good  collection  of  books  there,"  said 
Ben,  as  the  reader  closed  the  volume  from  which 
she  had  been  reading.  "  I  'd  like  to  show  this 
seaweed  article  to  a  young  fellow  who  keeps 
company  with  my  sister.  He  's  clerking  it  for 
a  wholesale  and  retail  drug-store  in  Providence. 
I  was  talking  with  him  the  last  time  he  was 
here,  and  he  thought  very  favorably  of  the  plan. 
Of  course  I  pretended  it  was  my  own  idea.  I 
knew  you  woidd  n't  want  any  one  to  know  you 
was  thinking  of  going  into  business." 

"Quite  right,  Ben,"  said  Hope.  "If  you 
will  take  great  care  of  this  book,  you  may  take 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED-  57 

it  home  with  you  and  study  out  the  question  with 
your  friend.  I  will  wrap  it  in  yesterday's  '  New- 
port News,'  "  she  added,  taking  up  the  book  and 
carefully  enveloping  it  in  the  local  daily  news- 
paper. 

When,  some  days  later,  Ben  returned  the 
book,  he  told  Hope  that  having  talked  the 
matter  over  with  the  young  apothecary,  the 
latter  had  said  that  if  Ben  would  undertake  to 
manufacture  iodine,  he  thought  he  could  get  his 
boss  to  enter  into  a  satisfactory  arrangement  for 
the  disposal  of  the  drug. 

"  Well,  Ben,  if  you  are  willing  to  risk  it,  I 
am,"  said  Hope. 

Accordingly,  a  short  time  after  this  conversa- 
tion, Ben,  accompanied  by  his  father,  to  whom 
with  the  fair  capitalist's  permission  he  had  con- 
fided their  joint  scheme,  met,  at  a  Iaw3rer's  office, 
Hope  and  her  friend  Mrs.  Rose,  who  had  been 
also  admitted  to  the  confidence  of  the  specula- 
tors, and  who  had  at  first  discouraged  the  bold 
enterprise,  but  finally  was  brought  round  to 
it  by  the  earnest  hopefulness  of  the  would-be 
money-maker.  A  contract  was  drawn  up  by 
Judge  Baker,  whom  Hope  had  selected  for  this 
important  business,  as  he  had  a  reputation  for 
reticence,  no  less  than  for  legal  knowledge. 

The  paper  was  duly  signed  and  witnessed  and 
everything  made  most  clear  and  comprehensive. 


58         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

By  the  contract  Hope  agreed  to  furnish  all 
funds  necessary  for  the  manufacture  of  kelp  and 
iodine,  and  Ben  to  assume  the  responsibility  of 
the  business  and  hand  over  her  share  of  the  pro- 
ceeds to  the  real  head  of  the  concern. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  Maverys  had  a  house  at  Newport  for  the 
season.  "  I  took  it  entirely  to  please  my  wife," 
Sam  Mavery  would  remark  to  his  acquaintance. 
"  I  don't  like  Newport  myself ;  it 's  quite  too  high- 
toned  for  me;  but  as  long  as  Mrs.  Mavery  is 
pleased,  it 's  all  right.  Somehow  I  never  can 
please  her,"  poor  Sam  would  say  ruefully  to  his 
sister-in-law,  for  whom  he  had  a  great  admira- 
tion, and  with  whom  he  felt  more  at  ease  than 
with  most  of  her  sex.  Hope  never  snubbed  him 
as  his  wife  did,  but  listened  patiently  to  his 
rather  uninteresting  talk,  and  answered  him 
kindly.  Good-hearted,  horsey,  shy  of  society, 
Sam  Mavery,  rendered  wretched  by  his  wife's 
utter  indifference  to  him  in  spite  of  the  money 
he  lavished  upon  her,  jealous  of  her  preference 
for  other  men's  society,  took  refuge  in  the  only 
consolation  he  could  find,  and  was  rapidly  min- 
ing his  health  and  pocket  with  whiskey  and 
cards. 


SENTIMENT  AND   SEAWEED.  59 

He  was  rarely  sober  after  dinner ;  and  when 
lie  sat  down  to  a  game  he  became  an  easy  prey 
to  cooler  and  more  skillful  players.  He  nightly 
lost  large  sums,  while  scarcely  aware  of  it. 
Persons  shook  their  heads  when  Sam  Mavery's 
name  was  mentioned,  and  said,  "  At  the  rate  he 
is  going,  he  can't  last  long." 

Mrs.  Mavery's  idol  was  self ;  her  chief  object 
in  life  being  to  get  as  much  admiration,  amuse- 
ment, and  luxury,  with  as  little  annoyance  to  the 
beloved  object,  as  possible. 

She  disliked  scenes,  and  especially  domestic 
ones,  as  enemies  to  good  digestion,  and  produc- 
tive of  wrinkles.  If  there  was  one  thing  Mrs. 
Mavery  dreaded  more  than  another,  it  was  the 
intrusion  of  crow's  feet  under  her  beautiful 
eyes ;  and  she  used  every  precaution  she  could 
think  of  to  prevent  the  appearance  of  these 
impertinent  steps  of  time.  Husband  and  wife 
rarely  met  save  at  the  dinner  table,  when  there 
was  generally  some  guest  present. 

"  When  Sam  is  not  himself,  which  I  am  sorry 
to  say  is  most  of  the  time,  I  avoid  his  company. 
When  we  were  first  married  we  used  to  quarrel, 
but  we  manage  better  now." 

"  But  if  you  were  to  talk  to  him  kindly,  and 
tell  him  he  is  killing  himself,"  interrupted  Mrs. 
Ashton,  in  reply  to  the  above  remark  of  her 
daughter,  with  wlioju  she  had  been  lunching, 


60         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

for  she  had  been  shocked  to  meet  her  son-in-law 
on  the  stairs  decidedly  "  not  himself." 

"  Talk  to  him  ! "  repeated  Sam's  wife,  with 
an  expressive  shrug  of  her  pretty  shoulders.  "As 
if  I  had  not  talked  myself  hoarse ;  indeed,  horse 
talk  is  the  only  kind  Sam  Mavery  appreciates," 
and  Mrs.  Mavery  laughed  heartily  at  her  own 
wit. 

"  And  this  is  matrimony,"  Hope  said  to  her- 
self when  dining  at  the  Maverys' ;  a  social  pen- 
ance to  which  she  often  submitted  from  a  sense 
of  duty,  far  more  than  from  inclination. 

Sam  Mavery,  who  seldom  appeared  at  his 
wife's  receptions  or  dances,  continually  brought 
home  "  fellows  "  to  dinner,  to  "  keep  the  peace," 
as  he  said.  He  invited  Hope  whenever  he  met 
her,  and  promised  her  "  a  beau."  He  liked  to 
see  the  attractive  face  of  his  young  sister-in-law 
at  his  dinner  table  ;  and  frequently,  struck  by 
the  freshness  of  her  cheeks,  he  would,  with  the 
total  absence  of  tact  which  belonged  to  his  can- 
did nature,  descant  upon  the  same,  to  the  great 
annoyance  of  the  object  of  his  compliments,  as 
well  as  to  the  displeasure  of  his  wife.  The  lat- 
ter saw  in  his  observations  a  covert  allusion  to 
her  more  artificial  attractions,  and  did  not  enjoy 
having  the  attention  of  her  guests  called  to  the 
fresher  charms  of  her  younger  sister  and  danger- 
ous rival  as  a  belle. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  61 

"  We  must  have  you  in  New  York  next  win- 
ter, and  give  you  a  chance  to  get  married, 
Hope,"  her  brother-in-law  would  often  say  to 
her. 

As  Hope  thanked  him  with  a  smile  for  his 
kind  interest  in  her  future,  she  privately  won- 
dered what  power  could  possibly  induce  her  to 
accept  the  husband  of  Sam  Mavery's  selection, 
and  she  thought  how  difficult  it  would  be  to  love, 
honor,  or  cherish,  still  less  obey,  any  of  the  men 
she  met  at  his  hospitable  board.  Adolphus 
Doolittle,  for  instance,  who  talked  little,  and 
when  he  did  make  a  remark,  generally  rode 
rough-shod  over  mood  and  tense,  but  who  was 
a  capital  partner  at  lawn  tennis,  and  sent  her 
lovely  flowers,  —  which  he  spelled  "  flours,"  — 
not  wired,  but  with  good  long  stems. 

"  Don't  abuse  Dolly,"  said  Hope,  as  she  took 
one  morning  from  her  sister's  hand  the  unfor- 
tunate card  which  had  dropped  from  a  bunch 
of  lilies  of  the  valley  and  Jacqueminot  roses. 
"  He  is  no  scholar,  but  he  dances  beautifully ; 
and  he  has  asked  me  for  '  the  German '  this 
evening,  so  my  mind  is  relieved  on  the  score  of 
a  partner." 

"Much  may  be  forgiven  in  a  man  worth 
twenty  thousand  a  year ;  you  can  correct  his 
grammar  when  you  marry  him." 

"  No,  indeed,"  was  the  laughing  reply,  "  if  I 


62       STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

am  ever  guilty  of  the  rashness  of  taking  Adol- 
phus  for  better  for  worse,  I  shall  leave  his  speech 
unpruned ;  it  sounds  more  original ;  and  *  Dolly's ' 
remarks  are  not  so  profound  as  to  be  worth 
translating  into  purer  English  than  he  uses." 

"  By  the  bye,  Hope,"  said  Mrs.  Mavery,  ab- 
ruptly changing  the  conversation,  "have  you 
seen  your  friend  Mrs.  Rose  lately?  I  suppose 
not ;  I  hear  she  has  a  very  devoted  admirer. 
You  are  not  as  intimate  with  her  as  you  were, 
are  you  ?  " 

"  You  remind  me  of  a  certain  Quaker,"  replied 
Hope,  nettled  by  her  sister's  tone  and  manner. 
"  I  might  reply  with  the  Quaker,  '  Friend,  first 
thee  tellest  a  lie,  and  then  thee  askest  a  ques- 
tion.' " 

"  Hope  !  "  exclaimed  her  mother,  "  how  can 
you  be  so  rude  to  your  sister ;  she  only  asked 
you  a  question." 

"  Did  she  ?  "  said  Hope.  "  Well,  I  was  only 
quoting.  I  did  not  mean  to  be  rude,  Bella,  but 
I  wish  you  would  not  always  sneer  at  Mrs.  Rose 
as  you  do  ;  she  is  my  friend,  and  "  — 

"  Bella  has  said  nothing  against  Mrs.  Rose, 
Hope,"  interposed  Mrs.  Ashton.  "  Who  is  this 
admirer  ? "  she  continued,  turning  to  her  other 
daughter,  with  all  the  zest  of  a  lover  of  gossip. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  Hope  does  not  know  Dr. 
Cashel  ?  "  was  the  reply.  "  All  Newport  is  talk- 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  63 

ing  of  his  devotion  to  M rs.  Rose.  He  's  such  a 
woman-hater  that,  rich  as  he  is,  no  one  has  ever 
thought  of  him  as  being  in  the  market.  But  he 
comes  to  Newport,  it  seems,  expressly  to  see 
Mrs.  Rose,  and,  I  hear,  is  there  all  the  time." 

"  When  have  you  been  to  the  Rosery,  Hope  ?  " 
asked  her  mother.  "  As  Bella  says,  it  is  strange 
Mrs.  Rose  should  not  have  introduced  this  Dr. 
Cashel  to  you." 

"She  probably  knows  better,"  said  Bella, 
now  quite  restored  to  good  humor  by  the  fact 
of  having  some  news  to  tell.  "  Mrs.  Rose  is 
too  shrewd  to  spoil  her  own  chances  by  having 
a  young  girl  about,  when  she  has  an  affair  on 
hand.  It  is  rather  absurd  in  a  woman  of  her 
age  flirting  with  a  man  so  much  younger  than 
herself.  I  hear  Dr.  Cashel  is  thirty-six  and 
Mrs.  Rose  must  be  —  How  old  is  she,  Hope  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  I  never  asked  her," 
answered  the  girl  impatiently.  "  I  only  know 
that  Mrs.  Rose  is  the  most  charming  woman,  old 
or  young,  of  my  acquaintance." 

"  Why  do  you  not  go  more  with  girls  ?  "  asked 
her  sister. 

"  Because  I  do  not  find  any  of  them  half  so 
agreeable  as  Mrs.  Rose,"  was  the  reply.  "I 
think  it  a  great  advantage  for  a  girl  like  me  to 
have  the  intimate  society  of  a  married  woman 
who  has  seen  the  world,  and  has  something  to 


64         STRA Y  LEA  VES  FROM  NE WPORT. 

talk  about.  As  to  this  Dr.  Cashel  being  de- 
voted to  Mrs.  Rose,  that  is  just  Newport  gossip. 
I  should  have  met  him  there  as  I  have  other 
gentlemen,  if  he  were  there  all  the  time,  as  you 
say.  To  be  sure  I  have  not  been  to  the  Rosery 
for  a  week.  Mamma's  sickness  has  kept  me  at 
home.  I  think  I  shall  go  there  to-day,  after 
Blanche  has  had  her  sitting.  There  she  is,  dear 
little  thing,"  and  Hope  ran  to  the  door  to  seize 
in  her  arms  and  embrace  a  pretty  child  of  five 
or  six  years  of  age,  who,  accompanied  by  a 
French  bonne  in  regulation  cap,  was  coming  up 
the  steps  as  fast  as  her  much  plush-enveloped 
little  form  would  allow. 

"  Hope  will  let  no  one  see  the  picture,"  said 
her  mother,  in  a  rather  querulous  tone,  after  the 
child  had  been  embraced  all  around,  and,  di- 
vested of  her  wraps,  was  being  led  from  the 
room  by  the  artist. 

"  Sam  saw  it  yesterday,"  answered  Mrs.  Ma- 
very. 

"  I  forgot  to  lock  the  door,"  said  Hope,  catch- 
ing her  sister's  words,  and  turning  back  with 
the  child,  who  pulled  her  impatiently  away. 

"  Sam  was  delighted  with  the  likeness,"  said 
his  wife,  "  but  he  would  be  sure  to  be  delighted 
with  anything  Hope  does.  I  am  not  jealous, 
Hope,"  she  hastened  to  add.  "  I  wish  you  would 
take  him  off  my  hands  a  little  oftener  than  you 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  65 

do."  Then  turning  to  the  French  maid,  who 
stood  at  the  door  waiting  for  orders,  Mrs.  Ma- 
very  gave  her  some  directions  respecting  the 
child ;  this  done,  she  carelessly  touched  her 
mother's  forehead  with  her  lips,  and,  humming 
a  tune  from  some  light  opera,  airily  departed. 
The  next  moment  she  was  standing  at  the  door 
of  her  carriage  talking  with  a  well-known  soci- 
ety man,  one  of  her  constant  attendants,  and 
the  special  object  of  Sam  Mavery's  jealous  dis- 
like. The  mother,  from  her  seat  at  the  win- 
dow, saw  her  flirtatious  daughter  handed  into 
the  brougham  by  this  admirer,  who  proceeded 
to  take  his  seat  beside  her ;  after  which  the  car- 
riage door  was  shut  by  the  diminutive  tiger  in 
top-boots,  the  equipage  rapidly  disappeared, 
and  Mrs.  Ashton  gave  a  deep  sigh  over  Belle's 
thoughtless  folly  in  thus  braving  public  opinion 
and  her  husband's  anger. 

Meanwhile  Hope  had  taken  her  small  sitter  to 
the  room  where,  upon  her  easel,  was  the  nearly 
completed  picture  of  little  Blanche  Mavery  in 
the  Kate  Greenaway,  quaint  attire,  in  which  the 
child  had  appeared  at  a  recent  children's  ball. 

Sam  Mavery  had  begged  his  sister-in-law  to 
paint  Blanche's  portrait  for  him,  promising, 
should  it  be  a  success,  to  pay  her  the  price  asked 
for  a  portrait  of  a  child,  by  the  celebrated  artist 
in  Boston  to  whom  Mrs.  Mavery  had  sat  for  her 


66         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

picture.  The  glimpse  the  fond  father  had  acci- 
dentally caught  of  his  little  daughter's  portrait, 
when,  as  Hope  had  told  her  sister,  she  had  neg- 
lected to  lock  the  door,  had  so  delighted  him 
that,  upon  his  return  home,  he  told  his  wife  that 
he  should  send  Hope  double  the  sum  he  had 
intended,  as  the  picture  was  fully  worth  the 
money. 

It  had  been  a  great  pleasure  to  Hope  to  paint 
the  singularly  attractive  child ;  and  Blanche, 
deeply  interested  in  seeing  herself  reproduced 
on  canvas,  generally  sat  very  still,  watching  the 
movements  of  the  artist's  fingers.  Hope  never 
tired  her  with  long  sittings,  but  gave  frequent 
intermissions  for  the  child  to  rest,  to  be  em- 
braced, and  amused  with  picture-books. 

This  day  little  Blanche  often  looked  up  won- 
deringly  into  her  aunt's  unusually  thoughtful 
face,  and,  feeling  herself  neglected,  became  rest- 
less and  cross.  The  sitting  was  a  decided  fail- 
ure ;  and  Hope,  finding  she  could  not  concentrate 
her  thoughts  upon  Blanche  or  her  portrait,  or 
upon  the  stoiy  with  which  she  generally  be- 
guiled the  child,  gave  both  up  in  despair,  and 
endeavored  to  provide  amusement  by  making  a 
horse  for  the  child  of  her  amiable  Newfound- 
land, Black  Prince. 

In  spite  of  a  determination  not  to  be  annoyed 
by  them,  Belle  Mavery's  words  had  left  an  un- 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  67 

pleasant  impression  upon  her  sister's  mind.  She 
could  not  but  confess  to  herself  that  it  was 
strange  that  Mrs.  Rose  had  never  spoken  to  her 
of  this  Dr.  Cashel,  who,  according  to  "  all  New- 
port," was  devoted  to  the  charming  mistress  of 
the  Rosery.  How  strange  she  should  never  have 
met  him  there ;  and  if  Belle's  words  were  true, 
what  a  barrier  his  frequent  visits  would  be  to 
the  hitherto  unrestrained  conversations  between 
herself  and  her  kind  friend.  It  was  all  very 
tiresome,  —  a  threatened  break  in  the  pleasant 
every -day  life,  of  which  Mrs.  Rose's  compan- 
ionship had  been  the  sunshine. 

Hope  was  not  sorry  when  Blanche's  departure 
left  her  free  to  draw  her  chair  before  the  wood 
fire,  and,  as  she  played  with  the  logs,  to  wonder 
over  the  idea  suggested  by  Belle  Mavery's  re- 
marks that  morning. 

But  Hope  was  not  long  left  to  her  firelight- 
pictures  and  reveries ;  for  the  striking  of  the 
French  clock  upon  the  mantel  marked  the  hour 
of  her  engagement  to  visit  one  of  the  smallest, 
but  one  of  the  most  interesting,  of  Newport 
houses,  — a  casket  full  of  objects  of  art  and  of 
historic  interest. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  James,  though  they  cared  little 
for  general  society,  were  much  sought  after  by 
the  artistic  and  cultivated  residents  and  visitors 
of  Newport ;  and  Hope  had  carte  blanche  to  come 


68        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

and  go  as  she  liked  among  the  works  of  art  and 
vertu. 

"This  is  my  fourteenth-century  man,"  Hope 
had  said  at  an  afternoon  tea,  where  she  chanced 
to  meet  Mr.  James,  who,  struck  with  the  statu- 
esque form  and  beautiful  face  of  the  haughty 
high-bred  heiress,  Hilda  Hauterive,  had  requested 
an  introduction. 

"Miss  Hauterive  wants  some  information 
about  some  missals  she  found  somewhere  in  Eu- 
rope," said  Hope.  "  Mr.  James  is  an  embodied 
Bodleian  Library ;  he  can  tell  you,  Hilda,  what 
you  want  to  know,"  added  Hope,  as  the  intellec- 
tual beauty  welcomed  the  virtuoso  with  a  smile 
of  more  than  usual  graciousness. 

The  result  of  the  introduction  had  been  an 
invitation  to  Hope  and  Miss  Hauterive  to  spend 
an  hour  or  two  at  the  James  Cottage,  over  some 
fine  illustrations  of  Froissart,  which  Mr.  James 
had  executed,  and  which  he  promised  to  show 
his  fair  visitors. 

"  What  beautiful  horses  !  "  exclaimed  Hope, 
as  she  stood  on  the  walk  admiring  Hilda's  styl- 
ish turn-out,  the  reins  of  which  the  young  lady 
handled  with  much  grace  and  skill. 

"  They  are  handsome,"  was  the  careless  reply. 
"  Papa  wanted  to  buy  me  strawberry  roans,  but 
I  preferred  these  blacks ;  they  look  well  with 
that  harness,  do  they  not  ?  " 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  69 

"  But  what  a  cruel  bit !  "  exclaimed  Hope. 
"  And  you  have  their  heads  so  checked  up  that 
they  can  scarcely  move  them.  That  check  must 
be  torture  to  horses." 

"  So  Captain  Neigh  ton  says,"  replied  the 
beauty  indifferently.  "He  made  war  upon  it 
yesterday,  in  the  name  of  that  meddlesome  soci- 
ety of  which  he  is  President." 

"  Why  do  you  not  change  it  then  ?  "  asked 
Hope,  as  she  took  her  seat  in  the  carriage.  The 
fair  driver  gathered  up  the  long  white  reins  in  a 
vigorous  grasp,  and  the  thoroughbreds  started 
off  at  a  rapid  pace. 

"Because  I  like  to  see  their  heads  checked 
up,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  am  quite  willing  to  pay 
any  fine  the  Society  for  the  Protection  of  Ani- 
mals may  exact,  but  I  shall  not  uncheck  my 
horses  all  the  same.  They  are  spirited  animals 
and  require  discipline." 

"  I  believe  kindness  is  far  better  than  force, 
with  both  man  and  beast,"  remarked  Hope. 

"  Do  you  ?  "  said  the  beauty.  "  My  experi- 
ence teaches  me  the  contrary." 

"  Is  that  the  principle  you  go  on,  Hilda,  when 
you  snub  men  so  unmercifully  as  you  did  Gordon 
Maxwell  last  evening?  You  refused  to  dance 
with  him,  because  you  were  tired  ;  yet,  later,  I 
saw  you  waltzing  with  Mr.  De  Veau." 

"I  refused  to  dance  with  Gordon  Maxwell  on 


70        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

account  of  his  presumptuous  manner,"  was  the 
reply.  "  He  did  not  even  ask  me  to  dance,  but 
jerked  out  his  arm,  as  I  observe  he  always  does. 
/  will  not  put  up  with  such  manners,  or  want  of 
them,  if  others  do.  The  fact  is,  the  men  are 
spoilt  by  the  flattery  of  married  women.  I  like 
to  take  down  the  vanity  of  a  dude  like  Gordon 
Maxwell.  The  snubbing  did  him  good,  for  he 
asked  me  quite  humbly  to  keep  a  waltz  for  him 
this  evening,  and  I  consented  to  give  him  one." 

"  You  should  have  lived  in  the  days  of  chiv- 
alry, Hilda ;  you  are  quite  too  grand  in  your 
style  for  these  prosaic  times,"  said  Hope. 
"  How  I  should  like  to  see  you  desperately  in 
love  !  "  And  yet  what  man  is  worthy  of  such 
rare  loveliness  ?  she  thought,  as  her  eye  wan- 
dered in  artistic  delight  over  the  details  of  per- 
fect symmetry  of  feature  and  beauty  of  coloring 
in  this  masterpiece  of  nature. 

"  That  you  will  never  see,"  said  Hilda,  her 
beautiful  lips  parting  and  disclosing  a  double 
row  of  pearls,  in  her  proud  smile  which  ac- 
knowledged the  homage  to  her  beauty  implied 
by  the  expression  of  her  companion's  face.  "  I 
fall  in  love !  "  she  exclaimed  with  a  merry  laugh, 
as  if  the  idea  were  too  absurd  to  be  entertained 
for  a  moment.  "  No,  no  ;  I  am  too  wise  for 
that,  even  if  it  were  possible  for  me  to  feel  the 
tender  passion.  Heart-whole  I  can  conquer 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  71 

hearts ;  but  if  I  were  to  lose  my  own,  —  supposing 
I  have  a  heart,  which  I  sometimes  doubt,  —  I 
should  be  conquered,  and  that  I  will  never  be ;  " 
and  the  deep  blue  eyes  flashed  under  their  dark 
fringes,  the  delicate  nostrils  dilated,  and  the  firm 
lips  closed  with  their  most  haughty  expression. 

"  Shaugraun,  Shaugraun,"  exclaimed  Hilda, 
suddenly  breaking  off  the  conversation,  as  she 
missed  her  Irish  setter  which  had  followed  the 
carriage.  "  Where  is  the  dog  ?  Some  one  will 
steal  him,  if  he  get  away  from  us.  Thomas," 
turning  to  the  groom,  "  have  you  seen  Shau- 
graun? Ah!  there  he  is,  lazily  lying  on  the 
ground.  Shaugraun,"  she  repeated,  stopping  the 
carriage. 

The  dog  looked  up  in  her  face  defiantly  and 
never  stirred.  Hilda  threw  the  reins  to  Hope  ; 
and  as  the  groom  got  out  of  his  seat  in  the 
rumble  and  stood  at  the  horses'  heads,  the  mis- 
tress of  the  setter  seized  the  whip  and  walked 
to  the  spot  where  the  dog  lay. 

"  Hilda,  Hilda,"  cried  Hope  entreatingly,  as 
the  angry  girl,  paying  no  heed  to  the  words,  re- 
peatedly lashed  the  dog  unmercifully. 

"  Take  care,  that  is  dangerous,"  cried  a  voice 
near  by,  and  Hope,  who  had  been  anxiously 
watching  the  combat  between  the  girl  and  the 
dog,  turned  her  head  and  recognized  the  stranger 
whom  she  had  seen  on  the  Cliff.  Hilda  vouch- 


72         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

safed  no  notice,  but  again  struck  the  animal,  as 
with  an  angry  growl  it  sprang  towards  her ; 
again  she  raised  her  arm,  but  Hope  caught  it 
ere  the  blow  fell,  and  the  stranger  at  the  same 
moment  seized  the  dog  and  held  it  back  by  the 
collar.  Hilda  stepped  back  a  few  steps,  pale 
as  marble,  with  the  whip  trailing  on  the  ground ; 
but  she  looked  fixedly  at  the  dog,  which,  firmly 
held  in  the  stranger's  grasp,  continued  to  glare 
at  her  and  growl. 

"  The  dog  is  hurt :  "  and  the  stranger  care- 
fully lifted  one  of  the  legs  of  the  setter.  The 
gentle  touch  and  the  soothing  words  which  ac- 
companied it  caused  the  dog  to  cease  growling 
and  to  look  up  gratefully  into  the  face  of  one  in 
whom  he  seemed  to  recognize  a  sympathetic 
friend. 

"  He  is  lazy  and  obstinate,"  said  Hilda,  and  at 
the  sound  of  her  voice  the  dog  again  began 
barking,  and  struggled  to  free  himself  from  the 
hand  which  held  him. 

"  Is  his  leg  broken  ?  "  asked  Hope,  who  was 
standing  by  the  dog,  looking  at  its  paw  lying  in 
the  stranger's  hand. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  "  it  has  been  cut,"  and 
he  proceeded  to  wipe  away  the  blood  from  the 
wound,  and  then  wrapped  his  handkerchief 
around  the  leg.  "  A  valuable  animal,"  he  said, 
opening  the  setter's  mouth  ;  "  he  has  the  marks 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEA  WEED.  73 

of  race.  But,"  turning  to  Hilda,  "  the  dog  needs 
care,  he  has  hurt  his  leg  quite  badly ;  "  and  tak- 
ing the  setter  in  his  arms  he  carefully  laid  it  on 
the  rug  which  Hope  had  doubled  and  spread  in 
the  bottom  of  the  carriage  ;  the  dog's  mistress 
looking  on  haughtily,  as  if  she  half  resented  this 
interference  on  the  part  of  an  entire  stranger, 
although  it  were  in  behalf  of  her  property. 

She  thanked  him  in  ceremonious  tones  for  all 
the  trouble  he  had  taken  ;  while  he  assured  her, 
in  equally  measured  words,  that  "  he  was  most 
happy  to  have  been  of  service  to  her  as  well  as 
to  the  dog,"  with  a  slight  emphasis  on  the  dog, 
which  caused  the  color  to  deepen  on  Hilda's 
cheek.  Then,  raising  his  hat  to  both  ladies, 
the  stranger  walked  off  rapidly  in  a  contrary 
direction  from  that  taken  by  the  two  girls. 

"  Suppose  we  walk  to  the  James  Cottage? 
it  is  but  a  step,  and  let  Thomas  take  the  dog 
home,"  said  Hope,  after  the  short  silence  which 
had  succeeded  the  departure  of  Shaugraun's 
friend. 

"  You  can  go  home,  Thomas ;  I  shall  not 
want  the  carriage  any  more  this  afternoon  ;  and, 
Thomas,"  as  the  man,  touching  his  hat,  was 
about  to  drive  off,  "take  that  dog  out  of  my 
sight ;  never  let  me  see  him  again.  I  give  him 
to  you.  But  if  he  comes  near  the  stable  again 
it  will  be  far  worse  for  him  than  it  was  this 
afternoon." 


74        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  Beg  pardon,  I  don't  understand  you,  Miss," 
said  the  astonished  groom.  "  Did  you  mean  me 
to  keep  Shaugraun  ?  " 

"  I  do  mean  it.  I  give  the  dog  to  you  to  sell 
or  to  keep,"  she  answered  impatiently,  in  a  tone 
of  suppressed  passion ;  "  only  never  let  him 
come  near  me  again  ; "  and  without  listening  to 
the  profuse  thanks  of  the  overjoyed  Thomas, 
Hilda  pursued  her  way. 

"Are  you  crazy,  Hilda?"  exclaimed  Hope, 
as  soon  as  she  could  recover  from  surprise  at 
her  companion's  conduct,  sufficiently  to  speak. 
"  Shaugraun  must  be  worth  one  hundred  dol- 
lars, at  least." 

"  Nearer  two  hundred  and  fifty,"  was  the  in- 
different reply.  "  Colonel  Tellifer  sent  to  Ire- 
land for  him,  expressly  for  me,  just  before  we  left 
England  last  spring,  and  one  of  his  brother  offi- 
cers said  he  had  offered  him  fifty  guineas  for  it." 

"  But  what  folly  to  give  such  a  valuable  dog 
to  a  groom.  Why  not  make  a  present  of  it  to 
one  of  your  friends,  if  you  are  tired  of  it  ? 
Shaugraun  is  a  royal  dog." 

"  He  displeased  me,  and  I  wished  to  degrade 
him  by  giving  him  my  servant  for  a  master.  I 
hate  the  dog,  as  I  hate  any  creature  that  defies 
and  humiliates  me,"  continued  Hilda  ;  and  the 
opening  of  the  door  of  the  James  Cottage  pre- 
cluded farther  conversation. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEA  WEED.  75 

It  was  a  chilly  October  day,  and  the  bright 
fire  burning  ia  the  old  fashioned  Franklin 
looked  very  pleasant  to  the  two  girls,  as  they 
were  ushered  into  a  drawing  -  room  which  was 
like  a  museum,  so  filled  was  it  with  curious  and 
rare  objects.  Hope  turned  to  the  wall  to  exam- 
ine a  picture,  a  recent  acquisition  of  her  host; 
and  Hilda  walked  to  the  fire,  when  the  servant 
left  them  to  announce  their  arrival. 

Suddenly  Hope  was  startled  by  a  low  moan, 
and  looking  around  she  beheld  her  companion 
holding  a  red  hot  poker  against  one  finger  of 
her  left  hand. 

"  O  Hilda,  did  the  dog  bite  you  ?  Let  me 
see,"  and  Hope  looked  anxiously  from  the  pale 
face  and  brow  contracted  with  pain  to  the  deli- 
cate flesh  seared  by  the  hot  iron. 

"  He  flew  at  my  hand  as  I  held  my  skirt  out  of 
the  mud,"  said  Hilda,  putting  down  the  poker 
and  biting  her  lip,  while  her  beautiful  eyes,  suf- 
fused with  tears,  showed  how  she  was  suffering. 
"  I  did  not  choose  to  have  that  man  see  that  I 
was  bitten,"  she  continued,  "  and  I  held  my  hand 
behind  me.  See  !  he  tore  the  skin  with  his  teeth 
through  my  glove.  The  dog  may  go  mad,  and 
it  is  as  well  to  take  this  precaution,"  she  added ; 
then,  hearing  a  step,  she  hastily  wrapped  her 
handkerchief  around  her  hand,  and  with  a 
"  Hush !  say  nothing  about  it,"  forced  a  smil^ 
to  greet  her  host. 


76         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  I  shall  say  something  about  it,"  said  Hope, 
as  Mr.  James  entered  the  room.  "  Mr.  James, 
Miss  Hauterive  is  faint ;  please  get  her  some 
wine,  or  brandy,  and,"  she  added,  as  he  hastened 
to  the  adjoining  dining-room,  "bring  a  little 
flour,  she  has  burnt  her  hand." 

When  Mr.  James  returned  with  the  wine- 
glass of  brandy  he  brought  the  salad  oil  cruet. 
"  Oil  is  much  better  than  flour,"  he  said,  "  to 
relieve  a  burn."  Hilda  received  him  with  her 
sweetest  smile,  gave  her  own  hurried  explana- 
tion of  the  accident  which  had  happened  to  her 
hand,  warning  Hope  by  a  look  not  to  correct  it, 
and  was  so  fascinating  that  her  host,  as  he  ap- 
plied the  soothing  oil  and  bound  up  the  wounded 
finger,  was  lost  in  admiration  both  of  the  charm- 
ing manners  and  of  the  beauty  of  his  visitor. 

As  Hope  watched  the  lovely  face  bending  with 
interest  over  the  very  finely  illuminated  sheets, 
which  the  artist  had  taken  from  a  drawer  and 
placed  before  his  appreciative  guest ;  as  she  lis- 
tened to  the  sweet,  rich  tones  of  the  voice,  and 
noted  the  winning  smile  with  which  the  deep 
blue  eyes  were  raised  to  her  host's  face,  while 
he  explained  a  passage  in  the  gold  and  blue  let- 
tering, or  drew  attention  to  a  quaint  design,  it 
seemed  to  her  almost  incredible  that  this  could 
be  the  same  girl  who,  but  a  short  time  before, 
had  given  full  vent  to  her  passionate  mood,  and 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  77 

then  borne  with  unflinching  stoicism  the  penalty 
of  her  anger. 

Hilda  Hauterive,  as  she  sat  in  the  calm  maj- 
esty of  her  great  beauty,  seemed  to  Hope  like 
the  personification  of  the  sudden  placidity  of  the 
ocean,  after  it  has  spent  itself  in  a  violent, 
stormy  outbreak. 

"  And  your  hand,  Miss  Hauterive,  I  hope  it 
does  not  pain  you  very  much  ? "  asked  Mr. 
James,  as  his  fair  visitor,  rising  to  depart, 
thanked  him  for  "  one  of  the  pleasantest  hours 
she  had  enjoyed  in  Newport." 

"  You  have  proved  such  an  excellent  doctor," 
she  replied,  in  her  sweetest  tone,  "that  your 
treatment,  joined  to  seeing  your  beautiful  Frois- 
sart,  had  almost  made  me  forget  the  pain." 

"  You  are  a  wonderfully  plucky  girl,  Hilda," 
said  Hope,  as  she  was  parting  from  the  haughty 
beauty  at  her  door.  "  Most  girls  would  have 
fainted  after  having  been  bitten  by  a  dog ;  few 
would  have  had  the  courage  to  cauterize  the 
wound  with  the  other  hand,  and  then  sit  and 
turn  over  missals  for  an  hour,  and  say  pretty 
things  to  the  owner." 

"  Did  I  say  pretty  things  ?  I  am  glad  if  I 
did,"  she  answered  laughing.  "  I  like  Mr.  James 
so  much.  He  is  so  clever  and  interesting  :  such 
a  contrast  to  most  of  the  men  one  meets.  Do 
we  meet  at  the  ball  to-night,  Hope  ?  " 


78         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  You  surely  will  not  think  of  going  to-night, 
after  all  you  have  been  through  this  afternoon  ?  " 
exclaimed  Hope. 

"  Of  course  I  shall  go.  I  would  not  miss  it 
for  anything,"  was  the  reply.  "To-night  will 
be  my  last  appearance  this  season  in  Newport, 
for  we  are  going  to  New  York  in  a  few  days." 

When  Hope,  chaperoned  by  her  sister,  en- 
tered the  ball-room  that  evening,  the  first  face 
she  recognized  was  Hilda  Hauterive's.  The 
beautiful  Southerner  was  looking  radiant  in  a 
dress  of  pale  sea-green,  which  suited  admirably 
her  fair  complexion.  She  wore  a  shamrock  on 
her  breast ;  and  in  her  chestnut  hair,  with  its 
golden  shimmer  through  it,  shone  a  gold  this- 
tle. She  was  talking  with  animation  to  a  rising 
young  lawyer,  son  of  a  distinguished  Western 
Senator. 

She  paused  abruptly  in  her  warm  expressions 
of  sympathy  with  Parnell  and  Ireland  to  give 
her  hand  and  respond  with  a  bewitching  smile 
to  a  graceful  compliment  from  the  venerable 
historian  of  the  United  States,  who  was  passing. 

"  I  ought  to  sympathize  with  Ireland,"  Hope 
heard  her  say,  "  for  I  am  Irish  on  my  mother's 
side,  —  of  the  same  blood  as  Ireland's  martyrs, 
Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald  and  Emmet;"  and  the 
hand  which  had  chastised  the  Irish  setter  played 
with  the  shamrock  at  her  breast. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  79 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"Miss  ASHTON,  Dr.  Cashel,"  and  the  tall, 
broad-shouldered  owner  of  the  great  St.  Bernard 
dog,  which  was  lying  at  his  feet,  rose  from  the 
sofa  as  the  mistress  of  the  Rosery  presented  him. 

Hope  colored,  for  she  recognized  the  stranger 
who  had  been  passing  when  she  was  "talking 
iodine  "  with  Ben  on  the  cliffs. 

She  hurriedly  returned  his  bow;  and  then 
plunged  into  a  rapid  and  confused  series  of  rea- 
sons why  she  had  not  been  at  the  Rosery  for 
more  than  a  week,  which  her  hostess  reminded 
her  was  the  fact. 

Meanwhile,  Dr.  Cashel,  having  bent  a  very 
searching  glance  from  his  mysterious,  deep-set 
eyes  upon  the  young  girl's  blushing  face,  silently 
resumed  his  seat,  and  commenced  playfully  strok- 
ing the  dog's  nose  with  his  glove. 

Suddenly  turning  to  Hope,  he  asked:  "Did 
that  dog  go  mad  ?  " 

"What  dog  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Rose. 

"  A  fine  Irish  setter  which  Miss  Ashton  and 
I  tried  to  defend  against  the  cruelty  of  a  beauti- 
ful woman,"  he  answered.  "  By  Jove,  that  was 
plucky,"  said  Dr.  Cashel,  as  Hope  told  of  Hilda's 
preventive  against  the  dog's  bite. 

"And  you  say  she  was  at  the  party  last 
night?  "  asked  Mrs.  Rose  of  Hope. 


80         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  Yes  ;  but  she  left  before  the  German,  and  I 
do  not  think  she  danced  at  all  during  the  even- 
ing. I  saw  her  sitting  down,  —  wonderful  for 
such  a  belle.  I  called  there  to-day  on  my  way 
here,  and  was  told  Miss  Hauterive  was  out 
driving." 

"  She  is  brave  and  strong,  as  she  is  cruelly 
beautiful,"  said  Dr.  CasheL 

"  Do  you  know  Hilda  Hauterive,  Harvey 
Cashel?  You  have  never  spoken  of  her  before," 
said  Mrs.  Rose.  "  What  a  mysterious  being 
you  are,"  she  added  laughing. 

"  I  do  not  know  Miss  Hauterive  personally," 
he  answered.  "I  saw  her  frequently  in  Paris 
last  winter,  where  she  was  the  belle  of  the 
American  Colony." 

"  If  you  do  not  know  her,  why  do  you  call 
her  cruel  ?  "  asked  Hope,  the  color  rising  to  her 
cheeks  as  she  spoke. 

Mrs.  Rose  smiled  at  the  indignant  tone,  and 
remarked,  "  Hope  is  a  warm  advocate  of  an 
absent  friend." 

"Hilda  is  scarcely  my  friend,"  answered 
Hope  ;  "  rather  an  acquaintance.  I  have  seen  a 
great  deal  of  her  this  summer,  because  mamma 
knew  Hilda's  father  when  he  was  a  young  man 
and  stayed  at  White  Cliff.  Mamma  spent  part 
of  a  winter  on  the  Hauterive  plantation,  when 
she  was  a  young  girl.  Mr.  Hauterive  brought 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  81 

Hilda  to  see  us  when  he  came  to  Newport  this 
summer  from  Europe,  where  he  had  been  for 
more  than  twenty  years.  It  amuses  me  to  hear 
Hilda's  impressions  of  America.  I  like  to  hear 
her  talk,  and  I  think  her  wonderfully  beauti- 
ful," continued  Hope,  avoiding  the  gaze  which 
she  felt  was  bent  upon  her  as  she  talked.  "  She 
is  imperious,  self-willed,  it  is  true ;  but  she  is  an 
only  child,  she  has  no  mother  to  guide  her,  and 
her  father  spoils  her." 

"  Yes,  she  is  very  beautiful,"  said  Mrs.  Rose, 
"  but  I  confess  too  cold  and  haughty  for  my  taste." 

Dr.  Cashel,  who  had  taken  no  part  in  the  con- 
versation, rose  slowly,  walked  across  the  room 
to  the  piano,  before  which  he  sat  down. 

He  struck  a  few  notes  in  an  absent  manner. 
Suddenly  there  pealed  forth  a  wild,  weird  mel- 
ody, a  "  song  without  words,"  depicting  the  emo- 
tions of  a  deeply  passionate  nature ;  gradually 
it  deepened  into  a  pathetic  soul-stirring  appeal, 
and  then  again  broke  forth  into  a  convulsive 
sob  like  the  bursting  of  a  long  struggling  heart. 
As  suddenly  as  it  had  commenced,  the  music 
ceased ;  and  the  musician,  upon  whom  Hope's 
glance  was  riveted  as  by  a  strange  fascination, 
rose.  He  shook  his  head  as  Mrs.  Rose  begged 
him  to  go  on  playing,  and  Hope  added  ear- 
nestly, "  Please  do  ; "  her  eyes  speaking  no  less 
eloquently  than  her  lips. 


82       STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"No,"  said  he,  "I  cannot.  My  thoughts 
sometimes  express  themselves  in  music  in  spite 
of  me.  You  must  excuse  this  rhapsody.  Miss 
Ashton's  question  of  why  I  called  the  beautiful 
Hilda  cruel  carried  me  back  in  imagination  to 
the  death-bed  of  a  foolish  boy,  who  thought  him- 
self Pygmalion  to  evoke  a  heart  in  this  Galatea 
of  his  dreams.  He  was  very  young,"  added  Dr. 
Cashel  deprecatingly,  "  only  twenty ;  and  the 
romance  and  fervor  of  his  artistic  nature  had 
been  increased  to  the  pitch  of  madness  by  a 
beautiful  woman's  smile  and  his  own  premature 
success  in  his  profession.  His  picture  of  Hilda 
Hauterive  was  one  of  the  best  in  the  salon  last 
year.  The  beauty's  vanity  was  gratified,  and 
she  encouraged,  flattered,  and  petted  the  boy 
artist,  until  he  gave  up  everything  for  love. 
Soon  this  devotion  bored  her;  he  was  in  the 
way  of  other  and  more  ambitious  conquests,  and 
she  sneered  at  his  protestations  of  love,  lashed 
him  with  her  scorn,  treated  him  as  she  did  her 
dog  the  other  day.  The  dog,"  he  continued, 
"  turned  and  bit  the  hand  that  struck  him  ;  the 
lover  simply  died  by  his  own  hand." 

"Horrible!  dreadful!"  exclaimed  his  listen- 
ers. 

"  You  may  well  say  so,"  he  rejoined.  "  I  shall 
never  forget  the  day  I  broke  the  news  to  his  poor 
mother." 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  83 

"  How  could  you  ?  "  interrupted  Hope,  with 
more  sympathy  in  her  tone  than  she  had  yet  felt 
for  the  narrator. 

"  Simply  because  there  was  no  one  else  to  do 
it,  and  I  had  promised  Albert  Grey  on  his  death- 
bed," he  replied. 

Then,  rising,  Dr.  Cashel  held  out  his  hand  to 
his  hostess  and  bowed  formally  to  Hope,  as  he 
called  his  dog  and  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

"  You  surely  are  not  going  ?  Stay  and  dine 
with  us,"  said  Mrs.  Rose. 

"  Impossible,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  leave  for 
Boston  by  the  next  train." 

"  What  a  strange  man ! "  exclaimed  Hope, 
when  the  door  had  closed  upon  Dr.  Cashel  and 
his  St.  Bernard.  "  How  magnificently  he  plays  ! 
One  would  never  think  when  looking  at  him,  or 
hearing  the  sarcastic  tone  in  which  he  so  often 
speaks,  that  he  had  so  much  feeling  as  he  showed 
when  he  spoke  of  his  friend." 

"  Harvey  Cashel  has  a  great  deal  more  feeling 
than  many  give  him  credit  for,"  answered  Mrs. 
Rose  warmly.  "  I  have  known  him  well  for 
years,  and  I  know  what  a  noble  life  his  is,  doing 
more  good  than  half  the  ministers  of  the  gos- 
pel, although  he  makes  no  pretense  to  being  a 
religious  man,  and  rarely  goes  to  church.  His 
is  practical  religion,  the  broadest  kind  of  char- 
ity, for  he  helps  every  one  who  comes  to  him,  or 
of  whom  he  hears  as  being  in  want." 


84        STRAY  LEAVES  PROM  NEWPORT. 

"  Does  he  practice  his  profession  ? "  asked 
Hope. 

"  Only  among  the  poor.  He  has  a  little  bijou 
of  a  house  in  New  York,  which,  when  he  is  in 
this  country,  he  makes  very  attractive  to  his 
friends.  His  sister,  who  is  unmarried,  lives  with 
him.  She  is  a  very  remarkable  woman.  Strong- 
minded  the  world  calls  her,  but,  unlike  many 
strong-minded  women,  she  has  sweet,  feminine 
manners,  and  dresses  very  handsomely,  a  little 
individually,  but  always  becomingly.  Like  her 
brother,  she  is  an  artist,  and  paints  as  well  as  he 
plays.  Out  of  the  way  as  their  house  is,  they 
have  as  much  society  as  they  like,  literary,  artis- 
tic, and  fashionable  people  who  have  brains.  For 
merely  rich  people  they  do  not  care ;  every  per- 
son whom  they  ask  to  the  most  delicious  little 
suppers,  dinners,  or  breakfasts,  which  Harvey 
Cashel  and  his  sister  give,  must  contribute  some- 
thing to  the  intellectual  menu.  They  are  both 
rich,  have  each  about  a  million,  so  they  can 
afford  to  live  as  they  please,  and  carry  out  their 
individualities  as  they  like." 

"  How  very  interesting !  "  exclaimed  Hope. 
"  I  don't  think,  however,  I  should  ever  feel  quite 
at  ease  with  Dr.  Cashel.  His  great  eyes  frighten 
me,  he  looks  so  steadily  at  me  when  he  talks." 

u  You  won't  mind  that  after  a  while,"  an- 
swered Mrs.  Kose.  "  But  he  is  such  an  erratic 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  85 

individual  that  you  may  not  see  him  again  for  a 
long  while.  It  would  not  surprise  me  to  receive 
a  letter  from  him  written  in  China,  after  about 
a  year's  silence." 

"  And  yet  Newport  says  "  — 

Hope  stopped  short  and  colored,  as  she  met 
the  gray-blue  eye  of  her  hostess. 

"  Newport  says  that  Harvey  Cashel,  my  old 
friend,  is  paying  his  attentions  to  me,"  said  Mrs. 
Rose,  quietly  finishing  Hope's  broken  sentence. 
"  So  I  heard  the  other  day,  not  to  my  surprise, 
for  nothing  I  hear  in  Newport  ever  surprises 
me ;  and  a  man  who  is  not  brother,  husband,  or 
father  cannot  call  twice  at  the  house  of  a  widow 
or  a  spinster,  without  exciting  the  remark  of  idle 
men  and  women.  Harvey  Cashel  comes  to  see 
me  without  any  such  motive ;  and  I  hope  he 
will  continue  to  come  as  often  as  he  likes.  He 
is  not  the  man  to  be  deterred  from  visiting  an 
old  friend  by  gossip ;  and  he  knows  that  I  have 
no  intention  of  ever  marrying  anybody.  And 
now,  having  disposed  of  that  subject,"  continued 
Mrs.  Rose,  "  let  us  proceed  to  read  my  letter 
from  Rome ; "  and  she  took  from  the  table  be- 
side her  a  long  letter  from  Charlie  Williams,  in 
which  she  and  her  young  visitor  soon  became 
deeply  interested. 

The  young  fellow  wrote  bright,  amusing  let- 
ters, full  of  graphic  accounts  of  people  he  had 


86         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

met  in  his  tour  through  Italy  with  the  sculptor 
with  whom  he  was  studying. 

Charlie  inclosed  some  sketches  he  had  made 
of  the  inhabitants  of  the  different  towns  and 
villages,  and  promised  to  turn  this  tour  to  great 
account  in  future  works  during  the  winter,  when 
he  should  settle  down  to  study. 

Charlie's  letters  came  regularly  and  were 
much  enjoyed  by  his  two  friends.  They  often 
spoke  of  him  to  Dr.  Cashel,  who,  contrary  to 
Mrs.  Rose's  prediction,  became  a  constant  visitor 
at  the  Rosery,  causing  Newport  to  remark  more 
than  ever  upon  his  assiduity. 

Hope  gradually  grew  accustomed  to  the  doc- 
tor's searching  gaze,  though  she  could  never  feel 
entirely  at  her  ease  with  him.  After  spend- 
ing the  greater  part  of  the  winter  at  Newport 
he  suddenly  disappeared  ;  and  Mrs.  Ashton,  who 
had  secretly  determined  in  her  own  mind  that 
Hope,  and  not  Mrs.  Rose,  was  the  attraction  the 
dark-eyed  millionaire  found  in  Newport,  was 
greatly  discomposed  in  her  plans  for  her  daugh- 
ter's settling  in  life. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED,  87 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MEANWHILE  the  iodine  enterprise  progressed 
rapidly ;  and  after  a  few  months  the  active  part- 
ner, Ben,  reported  to  the  capitalist  most  satis- 
factory results.  Shortly  after  Ben's  long  con- 
versation with  the  young  drug  clerk  who  was 
"keeping  company  with  his  sister,"  there  had 
come  a  proposition  from  a  leading  firm  in  Mas- 
sachusetts to  take  a  certain  amount  of  iodine, 
which  was  duly  furnished  ;  and  by  dint  of  keep- 
ing an  eye  open,  as  the  young  man  expressed  it, 
arrangements  were  made  with  certain  parties 
to  take  a  portion  of  the  kelp  off  his  hands.  At 
first  the  neighbors  had  sneered  at  the  notion 
of  Ben  Truman  making  money  out  of  kelp ; 
thought  he  had  "  much  better  keep  to  sellin'  sea- 
weed at  eight  dollars  a  load,"  and  wondered  his 
father  "  had  n't  more  sense  than  to  lend  himself 
to  such  nonsense." 

Gradually  the  farmers  around,  who  had 
watched  with  smiles  of  half  interest  and  half 
contempt  the  erection  of  "  that  ere  woodshed," 
got  to  look  upon  it  with  the  indifference  that 
comes  with  habit ;  and  when  it  was  discovered 
that  a  success  was  likely  to  be  made  out  of  the 
iodine,  the  tide  of  public  opinion  changed,  and 
the  young  chemist  was  pronounced  a  long-headed 
fellow  and  likely  to  get  on  in  the  world. 


88        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

Meanwhile  the  parties  concerned  kept  their 
affairs  to  themselves ;  and  none  but  they  knew 
that  the  tall,  graceful  girl  who  drove  frequently 
to  White  Cliff,  and  took  such  deep  interest  in 
watching  the  beautiful  violet  vapor  rising  from 
the  iodine  manufactory  there,  was  the  real  plan- 
ner and  promoter  of  this  successful  industry. 

"You  might  make  a  good  figure  in  Wall 
Street,  Hope,  with  your  financial  abilities,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Rose  one  day,  when  the  young  girl, 
having  figured  up  what  her  venture  had  cost  her, 
announced  to  her  astonished  listener  the  hand- 
some result. 

"  I  should  be  afraid  of  the  Bulls  and  Bears," 
replied  the  iodine  speculator  laughing.  "  No,  I 
shall  stick  to  seaweed  ;  it  is  safer." 

One  evening  the  doorbell  of  the  Rosery  was 
pulled  so  violently  that  Mrs.  Rose,  deep  in  the 
daily  paper,  threw  it  down,  not  knowing  what  to 
expect,  and  the  next  moment,  Hope,  with  flushed 
cheeks  and  eyes  red  with  weeping,  rushed  into 
the  room,  and  threw  herself  into  her  friend's 
arras. 

"  Hope,  my  child,  what  has  happened  ?  "  ex- 
claimed her  hostess  in  alarm. 

"  White  Cliff  is  to  be  sold,"  sobbed  the  girl. 

"  Sold,  to  whom  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  know.  Some  horrid  turfmen 
have  been  looking  at  it,  and  Ben  Truman  says 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  89 

it  may  be  turned  into  a  race-course,  and  the  old 
house  moved  away  or  cut  up,"  added  Hope,  as 
coherently  as  she  could  speak  through  her  sobs 
and  tears. 

"  This  is  too  bad,"  said  Mrs.  Rose. 

"  Bad  !  it  is  dreadful,"  cried  Hope  ;  "  iodine, 
kelp,  all  broken  up,  and  I  had  hoped  so  much  in 
time  to  buy  the  place." 

"  How  much  does  the  owner  want  for  it  ?  " 

"  Ben  thinks  it  might  be  bought  for  twenty 
thousand  dollars  ;  but  where  am  I  to  get  twenty 
thousand  "  —  Suddenly  a  thought  struck  the 
girl.  "  I  have  ten  thousand  dollars  left  me  by 
Aunt  Jane,  which  was  invested  for  me  in  gov- 
ernment bonds.  I  am  of  age  :  it  is  mine.  I  could 
sell  out  and  put  it  with  the  two  thousand  I  have 
in  the  bank,  —  iodine  and  embroidery  money. 
But "  She  stopped  and  looked  wistfully  at 
her  companion. 

"  Suppose  I  advance  the  rest  on  your  per- 
sonal security,"  said  Mrs.  Rose  smiling;  "or, 
better  still,  go  into  partnership  with  you,  lend 
you  the  money  to  complete  the  purchase  of  White 
Cliff,  and  you  give  me  an  interest  in  the  iodine 
business.  We  might  with  our  united  powers 
make  a  '  corner  in  seaweed.'  Who  knows  ?  " 

"  Will  you  really  ?  Are  you  in  earnest,  dear, 
dear  Mrs.  Rose?"  cried  Hope  joyfully.  "Oh, 
that  would  be  too  delightful,"  and  she  nearly 
smothered  her  friend  with  kisses. 


90        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

When  Hope  poured  out  to  her  mother  the 
story  of  her  struggles  and  success  in  amassing 
her  bank  account,  and  of  the  way  in  which  she 
had  invested  the  money,  and  finally  announced 
her  intention  of  becoming  the  purchaser  of  White 
Cliff  with  Mrs.  Rose's  assistance,  Mrs.  Ashton 
sat  for  some  moments  dumb  with  amazement ; 
and  when  she  actually  recovered  her  powers  of 
speech,  she  was  so  torn  with  the  conflicting  feel- 
ings produced  by  the  recital  that  she  did  not 
know  what  to  say. 

Mrs.  Ashton  thought  it  a  pity  to  disturb  the 
excellent  investment  which  had  been  made  of 
Aunt  Jane's  legacy,  and  yet  she  was  shrewd 
enough  to  know  that  Newport  property  was  sure 
to  rise,  and  would  always  be  valuable. 

It  also  gratified  her  pride  that  White  Cliff 
should  be  once  more  in  the  family.  "  It  is  bad 
to  hold  mortgaged  property,"  she  said,  "  and  un- 
wise to  have  any  business  dealings  with  friends. 
If  you  had  consulted  your  mother,  Hope,  instead 
of  a  stranger,"  continued  Mrs.  Ashton,  in  a  tone 
of  offended  dignity,  "  I  might  have  advised  you ; 
but  you  always  were  a  willful,  strange  girl." 

"  If  I  had  consulted  you,  mamma,"  answered 
Hope  quietly,  "  White  Cliff  would  never  have 
been  ours.  I  never  would  have  married  for  it, 
and  that  is  the  only  way  which  you  would  have 
advised ; "  she  added  bitterly.  "  I  would  far 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  91 

rather  struggle  for  a  livelihood  than  marry  for 
one.  However,"  she  added,  in  a  brighter  tone, 
"  we  will  not  discuss  that  question  now  ;  beside," 
she  continued  laughing,  "  as  the  possessor  of 
White  Cliff  I  am  more  likely  to  be  sought  in 
marriage,  than  if  I  were  a  poor  girl.  As  to  the 
mortgage,  Mrs.  Rose  is  surely  not  a  stranger ; 
and  I  am  sure  she  will  not  foreclose  if  we  are 
not  punctual  with  the  interest.  And  now,"  she 
added,  "  I  must  go  and  brighten  up  the  brass  on 
my  old  armchair.  That  will  be  a  valuable  piece 
of  furniture  for  the  library  at  White  Cliff.  We 
can  furnish  the  whole  house  from  the  furniture 
that  we  have,  and  let  this  house  unfurnished  for 
one  of  the  government  bureaus,  —  Geological, 
Topographical,  or  something  else.  I  hear  that 
Newport  is  to  be  inundated  with  any  amount  of 
public  offices  ;  it  will  be  a  good  chance  for  us  to 
turn  an  honest  penny  and  let  this  unfurnished 
house  to  Uncle  Sam.  Is  not  that  a  practical 
idea,  mamma?"  And  Hope  threw  her  arms 
around  her  mother's  neck  and  kissed  her  affec- 
tionately, then  danced  out  of  the  room  whistling 
a  gay  tune. 

A  little  later  her  mother  was  startled  from 
the  reverie  into  which  the  recent  conversation 
had  thrown  her.  Something  had  fallen  in  the 
adjoining  room,  which  was  Hope's,  and  this  was 
followed  by  a  loud  exclamation  from  the  latter. 


92         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

Hurrying  to  the  spot  to  see  what  had  happened, 
Mrs.  Ashton  found  the  old  armchair  had  fallen 
over,  and  a  drawer  lay  upon  the  floor,  while 
Hope  sat  beside  it  with  a  bundle  of  papers  in 
her  lap. 

"  See  what  I  found  in  that  drawer,  a  secret 
drawer  which  I  pulled  out  of  the  desk  when  I 
was  rubbing  up  the  old  brass  around  it,"  and 
Hope  held  up  the  papers.  "  They  were  all  in 
this  envelope.  '  For  my  granddaughter,  Hope,'  " 
she  continued,  reading  the  address  on  the  en- 
velope. "  In  grandpapa's  own  hand,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  these  are  the  very  government 
bonds  your  Uncle  searched  for  everywhere,"  said 
her  mother. 

"  How  delightful !  "  exclaimed  Hope.  "  Forty 
thousand  dollars  worth  of  government  bonds. 
We  can  buy  White  Cliff  out  and  out.  No  mort- 
gage upon  it  now." 

A  week  later  Hope  rushed  into  the  Rosery 
drawing-room,  holding  in  her  hand  the  deed 
made  out  to  her  as  the  possessor  of  White  Cliff. 

"  Is  it  not  just  like  a  novel  ?  "  she  said,  after 
she  had  poured  out  to  her  hostess  the  story  of 
the  discovery  of  the  government  bonds. 

"I  hope  you  searched  that  old  chair  well," 
said  Mrs.  Rose.  "  There  may  be  another  will 
contained  in  it  somewhere." 

"  No,  indeed,"  replied  Hope,  "we  diligently 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  93 

examined  every  nail  which  might  be  a  button, 
and  every  corner  which  might  contain  a  drawer." 

Hope  had  been  so  engrossed  with  her  story 
that  she  had  not  noticed,  in  the  dim  twilight  of 
the  room,  another  occupant  of  it  beside  Mrs. 
Rose,  and  she  blushed  violently  and  stammered 
a  confused  answer  to  the  hearty  congratulations 
of  Dr.  Cashel  upon  her  being  a  Newport  real 
estate  owner.  "  I  hope,"  he  said,  "  that  you  will 
not  be  inoculated  with  the  prevailing  mania  for 
improvements." 

"Mamma  and  I  will  have  all  we  can  do  to 
keep  White  Cliff  in  order ;  we  could  not  afford 
to  improve  it  if  we  would,  and  we  would  not  if 
we  could,"  answered  Hope. 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  contribute  something 
towards  the  art  gallery  of  your  house  ?  "  said 
Dr.  Cashel,  addressing  himself  to  Hope.  "  You 
remember  the  Venetian  picture  I  spoke  of  as 
being  so  like  Miss  Hauterive  ?  Well,"  he  con- 
tinued, as  Hope  bowed  assent,  "  I  have  it  among 
my  other  pictures  in  New  York,  and  the  next 
time  I  come  to  Newport  I  will  bring  it  with  me. 
Indeed,  I  assure  you  I  do  not  care  in  the  least 
for  it,"  he  continued,  in  deprecation  of  Hope's 
thanks  and  desire  not  to  deprive  him  of  the 
painting.  "  I  found  this  picture  in  the  old  Lore- 
dano  palace,  now  a  hotel,  and  bought  it  for  a 
mere  song.  The  owner  did  not  know  the  value 


94         STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

of  it.  I  am  sure  it  is  a  genuine  Veronese,  for 
upon  close  inspection  I  discovered  the  name  of 
Carlo  Caliari,  the  family  name  of  Paul  Veronese, 
upon  the  back  of  the  canvas.  It  is  an  unpleas- 
ant picture  to  me,  as  it  recalls  the  sad  episode 
of  Albert  Grey's  infatuation.  To  you,  who  are 
Miss  Hauterive's  friend,  it  will  have  no  such 
association,  and  it  will  make  a  variety  to  your 
Copleys  and  Stuarts.  I  hope  you  will  do  me 
the  favor  to  accept  it,"  he  said,  with  the  bright 
smile  which  often  lit  up  his  face. 

A  short  time  after  this,  Dr.  Cashel  presented 
himself  at  Mrs.  Ashton's  with  the  picture,  and 
was  most  graciously  received  by  that  lady,  who, 
although  she  cared  little  for  art,  expressed  great 
admiration  for  the  painting.  The  picture  repre- 
sented a  very  beautiful  woman,  dressed  in  Vene- 
tian costume,  looking  into  a  mirror  in  which 
was  seen  the  same  face,  but  very  much  altered 
by  age.  Time,  with  his  hour-glass,  also  reflected 
in  the  mirror,  leered  at  the  contrast,  and  Cupid 
turned  his  back  upon  the  older  face. 

"  What  a  curious  subject !  "  said  Hope,  after 
she  had  gazed  for  a  few  moments  at  the  pic- 
ture. 

"  You  do  not  like  it  ? "  he  asked,  unheeding 
Mrs.  Ashton's  polite  remarks. 

"  Yes  ;  no,"  answered  the  girl.  "  I  like  the 
beautiful  face,  of  course ;  that  is  very  like 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  95 

Hilda's;  but  the  other,  the  reflection,  seems 
cruel." 

"  It  might  be  a  shock  to  Miss  Hauterive,  I 
fancy,  if  she  were  to  have  such  a  moral  before 
her  as  the  artist  has  painted,"  he  answered. 

"  I  think,"  said  Hope,  "  that  the  artist,  after 
portraying  such  a  beautiful  face,  might  better 
have  painted  Love  defeating  the  inroads  of 
Time." 

"  Not  such  a  cruelly  beautiful  one  as  that," 
he  answered.  "  I  can  imagine  the  triumph  of 
Love  over  Time  connected  with  far  different 
features." 

"  How  strangely  you  treated  Dr.  Cashel, 
Hope,"  said  her  mother,  after  their  visitor  had 
left.  "  You  were  almost  rude  to  him ;  you 
scarcely  thanked  him  for  his  beautiful  picture." 

"  Was  I  rude,  mamma  ?  "  answered  Hope  ab- 
sently. She  was  thinking :  Why  did  he  bring  it 
to  me  ?  What  did  he  mean  by  those  last  words 
of  other  features  being  required  to  make  Love 
defeat  the  inroads  of  Time  ?  Why  did  he  look 
so  curiously  at  me  as  he  said  that  ?  Why  do  I 
feel  so  uncomfortable  when  he  fixes  those  deep 
eyes  upon  me?  She  thought,  with  a  smile  of 
derision  at  herself,  how  she  had  turned  her  chair 
the  evening  before,  that  she  might  not  look  at 
him  while  he  played  so  exquisitely  that  every 
note  of  his  music  vibrated  through  her  being. 


96        STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

Why  could  she  not  laugh  and  talk  with  him, 
and  be  at  her  best,  as  she  was  with  others  ? 
How  very  absurd  to  be  afraid  of  him!  How 
very  annoying ! 

While  these  thoughts  were  chasing  each  other 
through  her  brain,  Hope  sat  with  her  eyes  fixed 
upon  her  mother's  face,  while  the  latter  expatiated 
upon  the  attractions  and  excellent  qualities  of 
Dr.  Cashel,  and,  finding  herself  uninterrupted  and 
apparently  listened  to,  said  to  herself,  "  Hope, 
like  a  sensible  girl,  is  being  convinced  of  the  ad- 
visability of  securing  such  a  good  match."  But 
not  a  word  of  her  mother's  expressions  of  ap- 
proval regarding  their  late  visitor  had  the  girl 
heard,  until  she  suddenly  caught  the  conclud- 
ing sentence  of  her  practical  parent's  speech. 
"  A  man  of  forty  —  he  must  be  fully  that  —  is 
not  too  old  for  a  girl  of  twenty ;  and  you,  Hope, 
are  so  much  more  mature  in  character  than 
most  girls ;  you  always  were  very  old  for  your 
age." 

"Mamma,"  interrupted  Hope,  passionately, 
"  I  will  not  be  thrown  at  any  man's  head.  If 
you  say  much  more  in  praise  of  Dr.  Cashel  I 
shall  hate  him."  Then  in  a  calmer  tone  she 
said  :  "  He  has  no  more  thought  of  me  than  I  of 
him.  If  he  cares  for  any  one  in  Newport  it  is 
Mrs.  Rose ;  he  comes  to  see  her." 

Mrs.  Ashton  merely  raised  her  eyebrows,  as 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  97 

was  her  wont  when  she  did  not  agree  with  a 
proposition ;  she  wisely  forebore  further  argu- 
ment. 


CHAPTER  VHI. 

THE  long,  dreary,  Newport  spring  was  nearly 
over ;  the  buds  of  the  lilac,  wistaria,  and  other 
early  shrubs,  and  the  trees,  which  had  for  some 
weeks  previous  been  struggling  against  the 
piercing  winds  and  unfriendly  atmosphere  of 
May  in  Newport,  had  conquered,  —  as  youth  and 
beauty  must  when  backed  by  energy  of  purpose, 
—  and  had  burst  forth  in  all  their  vigor  ;  the 
bright  colors  and  delicious  odors  of  these  flowers 
of  the  "  youth  of  the  year  "  welcoming  back  the 
birds  and  early  summer  visitors  of  Newport,  the 
hanging  blossoms  and  branches  draping  the 
houses  and  brightening  in  the  fair  sunshine  the 
"  Garden  of  Rhode  Island."  "  'Lection  Day, 
the  day  of  all  days  "  to  the  genuine  Newporter, 
had  come  and  gone ;  the  native  poet-governor, 
inaugurated  for  the  second  time  as  chief  mag- 
istrate of  the  State,  had  made  his  happiest  re- 
sponse to  the  felicitations  of  his  friends  and 
constituents,  under  the  bluest  of  skies,  and  amid 
the  brightest  array  of  uniforms,  pretty  faces, 
and  'lection  jubilee.  But  the  day  following,  the 


98         STRA  Y  LEA  VES  FROM  NE  WPORT. 

aspect  of  Newport  changed,  as  its  unreasonable 
climate  will,  without  due  notice.  The  sun,  as 
if  regretting  its  effulgent  welcome  to  the  gov- 
ernor, the  crowd  of  visitors,  and  Newport  resi- 
dents, and  fearing  to  make  its  smiles  too  cheap, 
now  veiled  its  face.  The  sky  was  dull  and 
dreary,  the  atmosphere  chilly.  The  Isle  of 
Peace  Hotel,  in  its  spring  dress  of  fresh  white 
paint,  looked  cold  and  cheerless ;  and  the  fringe 
of  official  broadcloth  and  stovepipe  hats  on  the 
piazza,  —  dignitaries  who  had  come  to  "  tend 
'lection,"  and  now,  standing  about  in  groups, 
discussing  the  questions  most  dear  to  their  sev- 
eral political  hearts, —  made  as  sombre  a  trim- 
ming to  the  front  of  the  hospitable  inn,  as  if  the 
funeral  which  just  then  chanced  to  be  passing 
along  the  street  had  been  the  occasion  of  their 
assembling. 

It  was  not  a  day  to  raise  depressed  spirits. 
"  I  don't  wonder  so  many  English  commit  sui- 
cide, under  the  influence  of  their  fogs ;  and 
Newport  is  terribly  English  in  climate  to-day," 
thought  I  lope,  as  she  wandered  with  listless  step 
and  face  along  the  streets  she  had  found  so 
crowded  the  day  before,  when  she  had  taken 
little  Blanche,  who  was  on  a  visit  to  "  Grand- 
mamma and  Aunt  Hope,"  to  see  all  the  interest- 
ing sights  of  "  'Lection  Day,"  and,  in  the  gay 
spirit  of  the  hour,  had  caught  some  of  the  child's 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  99 

enthusiasm  and  quite  enjoyed  looking  at  the 
"  soldiers." 

This  day  the  girl's  tired  limbs  and  mind  were 
feeling  the  reaction  after  their  recent  activity  in 
the  service  of  a  bright,  healthy  child.  A  long 
chain  of  petty  domestic  trials  had  fretted  her 
brave  spirit  and  almost  wholly  discouraged  it. 
Her  mother,  suffering  from  a  very  severe  attack 
of  neuralgia,  the  result  of  imprudence  the  day 
before,  had  been  excusably,  but  none  the  less 
tryingly,  irritable,  worrying  over  household  ex- 
penses, distrusting  Hope's  management  of  affairs, 
bewailing  the  rash  purchase  of  White  Cliff,  and 
drawing  terrible  pictures  of  the  financial  ruin  it 
would  inevitably  entail  upon  them. 

Hope,  whose  heart  had  "  gone  down  to  her 
boots,"  as  she  expressed  it  to  herself  and  her 
faithful  dog  Black  Prince,  a  safe  confidant,  to 
whom  she  often  unburdened  herself,  sighed  over 
the  long  catalogue  of  necessary  outlays  at  White 
Cliff,  and  wished  she  could  comfortably  talk 
them  over  with  her  mother,  who,  had  she  been 
able  to  discuss  matters  sympathetically  and 
thoughtfully,  might  have  taken  some  of  the  bur- 
den of  anxiety  off  the  overtaxed  brain  and 
heart  of  her  daughter.  But  no,  it  would  never 
do  to  attempt  to  share  these  anxieties  with  her 
parent;  she  must  think  out  all  plans  alone. 
She  must  spur  on  the  lax  workmen,  who  had 


100      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

stopped  papering  and  painting  at  White  Cliff 
for  a  week  before  'lection,  in  their  own  prepara- 
tions for  that  great  event.  She  must  get  furni- 
ture moved,  repaired,  and  taken  from  the  house 
they  now  occupied,  in  order  to  give  it  up  to  the 
tenants  they  had  secured  at  a  "  low  price,"  as 
they  had  thought,  for  the  large  house,  but  "  very 
fortunately  at  any  price,"  said  the  real  estate 
agents,  who  had  all  been  brisk  in  the  effort  to 
rent  Mrs.  Ashton's  house.  "  The  house,"  they 
said  to  the  owner,  "was  in  an  unfashionable 
locality,  without  modern  improvements,  and  un- 
furnished," since  the  furniture  would  all  be 
needed  at  White  Cliff. 

So  Hope  persuaded  her  mother  to  accept  the 
offer  made,  and  bent  all  her  energies  to  vacate 
in  a  fortnight. 

Hope  had  finished  her  various  errands  and 
was  now  passing  the  beautiful,  mottled  marble 
Unitarian  church,  when  her  ear  caught  the  soft 
notes  of  the  organ  pealing  through  the  door.  It 
was  unusual  for  the  church  to  be  open  on  a 
week  day.  Why  do  Protestants  not  imitate  the 
example  of  Roman  Catholics,  and  leave  God's 
house  freely  open  to  his  children  at  all  times 
and  seasons  ? 

When  Hope  looked  into  the  church  it  was 
empty,  save  for  the  organist,  whose  form  was 
shrouded  from  her  view  by  the  screen  in  front 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          101 

of  the  organ.  The  girl  wandered  along  the 
lower  end  of  the  church  and  stood  in  front  of 
the  large  window  which  illustrates  the  text, 
"  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death."  While  she  was  thus  enjoy- 
ing the  music,  it  ceased,  and  Hope,  turning  her 
eyes  around,  saw  the  musician  coming  towards 
her.  In  a  moment  she  had  recognized  him. 

"  How  doubly  wretched  those  other  windows 
look  in  contrast  to  La  Farge's  splendid  colors," 
he  said,  joining  her.  "  It  would  be  desirable  in 
the  interest  of  art,"  he  continued,  with  a  smile, 
"  that  some  Newport  gamin's  ball  might  acci- 
dentally break  the  other  glass.  I  don't  think 
Christian  forbearance  would  allow  such  an  artful 
culprit  to  be  prosecuted,  do  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh  Dr.  Cashel,  was  it  you  playing  ?  How 
deliciously  soothing  it  was,"  said  Hope,  looking 
up  into  his  face  and  forgetting  everything  in  her 
delight  at  his  music. 

"  Did  you  like  it  ?  "  he  answered  quietly.  "  It 
was  a  composition  of  mine  I  was  trying.  That 
is  a  grand  organ.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  play  on  it. 
I  wish  I  had  time  to  play  longer  for  you,"  he 
said,  taking  out  his  watch,  "  but  I  am  late  al- 
ready. How  would  you  like,"  he  continued,  after 
a  pause,  "  to  go  with  me  to  visit  a  small  patient 
of  mine,  whose  nose  was  injured  by  another  little 
rascal  in  a  fight?  No,  not  at  all  an  unpleasant 


102      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

sight,"  he  replied,  in  response  to  the  wry  face  of 
his  companion.  "  You  said  the  other  evening, 
if  I  recollect  rightly,  that  you  had  a  taste  for 
surgery.  I  pride  myself  on  the  nose  I  have 
remodeled,  and  should  very  much  like  to  show 
it  to  you." 

"  If  it  is  a  classical  one  I  should  very  much 
like  to  see  it,"  she  answered  laughing.  "  Char- 
lie Williams  writes  eloquently  of  the  beautiful 
noses  of  the  statues  in  the  Vatican  gallery ;  but 
deplores  the  build  of  some  belonging  to  the  sit- 
ters who  come  to  the  studio  to  'be  busted,'  as 
he  styles  it.  He  says  it  is  hard  to  idealize 
them,  and  they  always  want  to  be  made  hand- 
some." 

Thus  chatting  gayly  they  walked  out  of  the 
church,  and  proceeded  towards  Johnnie  Ma- 
honey's  home. 

"  Tell  me  about  the  child's  accident,"  said 
Hope. 

"  I  was  passing  the  public  school  the  other 
day,"  ho  answered,  "  when  I  saw  a  crowd  gath- 
ered and  heard  some  one  call  for  a  doctor ;  so  1 
stepped  up  and  took  a  look  at  the  combatants. 
The  smaller  of  the  two  was  covered  with  blood. 
The  little  fellow  was  full  of  pluck,  and  had 
stood  up  manfully  against  the  big  bully,  who 
had  pounded  him  terribly.  But  I  found  upon 
examination  that  the  nose,  though  badly  injured, 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          103 

could  be  mended  to  look  as  well  if  not  better 
than  ever.  The  child  has  a  fine  constitution, 
which  has  not  been  tampered  with  as  if  he  had 
been  born  in  the  lap  of  luxury.  Nature  will  do 
more  for  him  than  I  can." 

The  wounded  hero  lay  on  a  shabby  sofa  in  a 
very  poor,  but  scrupulously  clean,  room.  Hope 
easily  guessed  from  whom  the  pretty  book,  which 
he  was  reading  when  they  entered,  had  come,  as 
well  as  some  of  the  comforts  around  the  sick 
boy,  which  were  quite  incongruous  with  the  be- 
longings of  Johnnie's  home. 

The  child  smiled  as  he  caught  a  glimpse  of 
"his  doctor."  His  eyes  brightened  as  Hope, 
speaking  kindly  to  him,  presented  a  toy  with 
which  she  had  provided  herself  on  the  way. 

Too  shy  to  speak,  Johnnie  looked  his  pleasure, 
as  he  examined  his  boat.  If  Johnnie  was  shy, 
his  mother  was  not.  She  poured  forth  a  per- 
fect stream  of  Milesian-American  talk.  "  Bless- 
ings on  the  purty  lady  that  brought  yees  the 
nice  boat.  (Thank  her,  Johnnie,  boy :  where  's 
yer  manners!  "  as  the  child  shyly  looked  at 
Hope  without  speaking.)  "Blessings  on  the 
doctor  who  had  been  so  kind  and  made  Johnnie 
sich  a  beautiful  nose.  Sure  when  the  Coort  sees 
it  they  won't  belave  the  child  was  hurted  at  all, 
at  all,  and  Mike  won't  git  sint  up  after  all.  What 
d'ye  think,  doctor?  "  and  she  peered  into  his  face 
anxiouslv. 


104      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"I  think  if  you  don't  stop  talking  and  at- 
tend to  what  I  tell  you,  that  I  shall  leave  you 
and  Johnnie,  and  go  home,"  he  replied  curtly. 
Whereupon  the  woman  became  all  attention  to 
the  directions  the  doctor  proceeded  to  give  her  ; 
and  while  they  were  thus  occupied,  Hope  turned 
to  Johnnie  and  asked  him  about  his  accident. 
"  It  must  have  hurt  you  terribly,  my  poor  child," 
she  said. 

"  You  bet  it  did,"  he  answered.  Then  gaining 
courage  and  speech  with  the  remembrance  of 
his  wrongs,  he  added,  in  a  vindictive  tone, 
"  Won't  I  lick  Mike,  though,  when  I  git  well,  if 
he  is  bigger  nor  me." 

Dr.  Cashel,  who  had  caught  the  words,  ex- 
changed a  smile  with  Hope,  as  he  said  to  the 
boy :  "  Take  care,  Johnnie ;  I  don't  promise  to 
mend  your  nose,  if  you  break  it  again." 

"  I  don't  care,"  began  the  child  doggedly ;  "  if 
Mike  hits  me  "  — 

Here  the  doctor  averted  the  impending  ava- 
lanche of  words  from  the  mother,  about  to  take 
up  the  cudgels  for  Johnnie,  by  requesting  her  to 
step  to  the  nearest  livery  stable  and  order  a 
horse  and  wagon  to  be  sent  to  him. 

"  I  shall  be  finished  with  Johnnie  by  the  time 
it  comes,  and  I  must  visit  another  patient.  I 
shall  drive  you  home,  Miss  Ashton,"  he  said, 
turning  to  Hope,  "  you  are  quite  too  tired  to 
walk." 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          105 

"  Am  I  ? "  said  Hope  laughing.  "  Yes,  I 
believe  I  am." 

Then,  the  good  woman  having  departed  on 
her  errand,  and  Johnnie  being  quite  absorbed 
in  the  contemplation  of  the  new  ship  Hope  had 
given  him,  she  added  shyly,  "  I  wish  I  were 
going  to  see  another  of  your  successful  surgi- 
cal operations;  I  find  it  so  interesting.  How 
delightful  it  must  be  to  possess  such  skill,  to  be 
able  to  do  so  much  good  in  the  world ;  "  and  as 
she  spoke  she  cast  a  glance  of  admiration  at  the 
successfully  patched  nose,  which  tribute  to  his 
surgical  prowess  the  doctor  acknowledged  with 
a  smile. 

"  I  meant  to  make  the  proposition  later,"  he 
said,  with  a  peculiar  look  which  sent  the  blood 
again  to  her  cheeks. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  this  patient  ? " 
asked  Hope,  when  she  was  seated  beside  Dr. 
Cashel  in  the  buggy,  behind  one  of  Hayward's 
fastest  horses. 

"  She  has  cardiac,  heart  trouble,"  he  replied. 

"  Is  she  young  ?  " 

"  Your  age." 

"  And  pretty  ?  "  Hope's  interest  in  the  young 
girl  was  increasing. 

"  The  prettiest  and  most  interesting  girl  I 
ever  met,"  he  answered  emphatically. 

"Ah!" 


106      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

There  was  a  silence  of  a  few  seconds,  and  then 
Hope  said,  "  Poor  girl !  how  very  sad.  Heart 
disease  is  fatal,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  If  it  be  an  organic  affection,  it  is  sure 
sooner  or  later  to  prove  fatal,"  he  replied ;  "  but 
if  I  have  diagnosed  this  case  correctly,  it  is  one 
of  sympathetic  affection,  and  will  yield,  I  think, 
to  proper  treatment."  As  he  said  the  last  words, 
he  drew  down  the  corners  of  his  mouth  in  a 
smile  of  extreme  amusement.  Here  the  conver- 
sation was  interrupted  by  the  horse  suddenly 
starting  off  at  a  most  rapid  pace.  "  He  hears 
a  horse  behind  him  and  will  not  be  beaten ; 
a  good  horse,  a  very  good  horse,"  said  the 
doctor. 

The  weather  had  cleared  off  during  their  visit 
to  Johnnie,  the  air  had  become  warmer,  the  sky 
brighter  than  it  had  been  a  few  hours  before. 
Hope's  spirits  rose  with  the  mercury.  She 
found  herself  enjoying  the  drive  immensely, 
chatting  with  Dr.  Cashel  as  if  she  had  known 
him  all  her  life,  and  not  in  the  least  minding 
the  searching  gaze  of  his  eyes. 

"  That  is  the  Prescott  house,"  she  said,  direct- 
ing her  companion's  glance  towards  a  tall  house 
standing  back  from  the  road. 

"The  Prescott  house  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  it  was  there  that  during  the  Revolu- 
tionary War  the  English  General  Prescott  was 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          107 

surprised  by  our  soldiers ;  taken  from  his  bed 
in  the  middle  of  the  night.  What  a  shame  it 
was  to  paint  that  old  house  up  in  gaudy  yellow 
with  those  bright  chimneys.  It  should  be  kept 
for  a  relic." 

"The  owner  is  apparently  not  conservative, 
and  prefers  new  paint  to  the  time-honored  ab- 
sence of  it.  What  a  very  excellent  Newport 
Bradshaw  you  would  make,  Miss  Ashton ;  and 
how  I  should  like  to  '  do '  the  old  town  under 
your  guidance.  There  must  be  a  great  deal  to 
see.  I  have  already  been  shown  three  head- 
quarters of  the  Father  of  his  Country.  In  one, 
I  am  told,  the  garret  was  at  one  time  full  of 
old  letters  of  historic  interest,  so  little  prized  by 
the  present  family  that  they  were  used  to  light 
the  fire  ;  most  extravagant  kindling,  for  they 
would  no  doubt  have  brought  good  prices  as 
autographs." 

"  What  barbarians  !  "  exclaimed  Hope.  "  Yes, 
there  are  more  things  in  Newport  than  are 
dreamed  of  in  the  philosophy  of  many  of  its 
visitors." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,"  he  answered,  smiling  at 
the  perverted  quotation. 

"lean  show  you,"  continued  Hope,  "in  the 
wall  of  our  drawing-room,  behind  the  old-fash- 
ioned mantel,  two  places  which  were  burned  by 
the  candles  of  the  Hessians,  whom  the  English 


108       STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

hired  to  fight  us  in  the  Revolutionary  War. 
Persons  often  ask  what  those  indentations  mean." 

*'  How  very  interesting,"  he  replied.  "  What 
a  singular  looking  house  that  is,"  he  continued, 
as  they  were  passing  a  large  farmhouse  directly 
on  the  road.  "  It  has  but  one  door,  but  looks 
like  two  houses,  for  it  is  of  two  colors." 

"  Two  maiden  sisters  live  there,"  said  Hope, 
"  and  as  their  tastes  are  totally  dissimilar,  they 
keep  house  separately." 

"  A  contradiction  of  Scripture,"  said  the  doc- 
tor, "  for  this  house  divided  against  itself  appears 
to  have  stood  a  long  time.  What  a  dreary  life 
of  it  these  two  old  women  must  have,  playing 
solitaire  in  different  parts  of  this  lonely  house. 
I  fancy  they  have  few  visitors.  If  they  lived  to- 
gether they  might  play  backgammon  or  check- 
ers. What  do  you  suppose  they  do  with  them- 
selves all  the  long  days  and  evenings  ?  " 

"  Housekeeping,  pickling,  preserving,  knitting, 
and  crochet  work,  make  up  the  daily  routine  of 
most  country  people's  lives,"  said  Hope,  "with 
going  to  church  on  Sundays.  I  do  not  know 
if  these  old  women  are  piously  inclined  ;  but 
probably  if  one  is,  the  other  is  not.  I  have 
never  seen  any  signs  of  life  about  the  place,  ex- 
cept a  poor  little  stray  chicken  or  two." 

"  Perhaps  they  take  opium  as  a  means  of  ex- 
citement," said  the  doctor. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          109 

"Take  opium?" 

"  You  would  be  astonished  if  you  knew  how 
many  persons  resort  to  that  means  of  procuring 
an  artificial  excitement,  and  of  killing  time, 
while  they  do  not  know  that  they  are  killing 
mind  and  body." 

Here  Hope  laid  her  hand  upon  the  reins. 
"  You  are  taking  the  wrong  road,  Dr.  Cashel," 
she  said. 

"  We  have  plenty  of  time  to  see  the  sun  set 
from  your  rocks,"  he  said.  "I  want  you  to 
show  me  your  property." 

"  But  your  patient :  you  forget  her  ?  " 

"  No,  far  from  it,"  he  replied ;  "  I  shall  find 
her  there." 

"Find  a  girl  with  disease  of  the  heart  at 
White  Cliff,"  repeated  Hope,  in  a  tone  of  amaze- 
ment. "  Dr.  Cashel,  what  do  you  mean  ?  The 
Trumans  are  perfectly  healthy,  and  there  is  no 
other  girl  there." 

He  smiled  but  said  nothing  as  the  horse  turned 
into  an  open  gateway  and  then  trotted  along 
the  gravel  road  which  led  to  the  old  house.  Dr. 
Cashel  assisted  his  companion  out  of  the  wagon, 
hitched  the  horse  to  the  post  in  front  of  the 
door,  then,  as  Hope  was  stepping  on  the  piazza, 
said,  "  Another  time  you  shall  show  me  your 
house  ;  let  us  walk  down  to  the  rocks  where  I 
first  saw  you,  when  my  dog  made  such  an  un- 


110      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

warrantable  attack  upon  the  plaid  which  I  once 
owned,  but  had  given  to  Mrs.  Rose.  How  very 
long  ago  that  seems  now,  does  it  not  ? "  he 
continued,  as  they  started  down  the  Cliff  path 
to  the  shore  below.  "  Yet  it  is  not  a  year  since 
you  were  sitting  just  here,  planning  your  iodine 
venture,  which  has  turned  out  such  a  success." 

"  O  Dr.  Cashel,  then  you  heard  us  talking !  I 
was  afraid  you  did." 

"  Afraid,  and  why  ?  "  he  asked,  seating  him- 
self upon  the  stones  he  had  piled  together  near 
the  large  bowlder  upon  which  Hope  had  placed 
herself. 

"  It  must  have  sounded  so  foolish  to  a 
stranger." 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  sounded  very  sensible," 
he  replied.  "  It  surprised  me,  I  confess,  to  hear 
such  practical  ideas  from  one  so  young.  The 
bits  of  conversation  I  caught  gave  me  great  re- 
spect for  your  business  talents.  I  had  no  inten- 
tion of  playing  the  eavesdropper,"  he  continued, 
"  but  you  and  your  companion  were  so  interested 
in  your  subject  that  you  spoke  louder  than  you 
supposed,  and  the  Newport  air  is  so  clear  that  I 
heard  enough  to  make  me  wish  to  know  more. 
I  believed  in  your  iodine  and  in  you  from  the 
first ;  and  I  have  been  a  frequent  visitor  to  the 
manufactory  ever  since  it  has  been  in  opera- 
tion." He  did  not  tell  her  that  to  his  influence 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  Ill 

and  recommendation  Ben  Truman  owed  many 
of  the  large  orders  he  had  received  through  his 
friend,  the  drug  clerk. 

"You  have  an  excellent  head  and  hand  in 
Ben,"  added  Dr.  Cashel ;  "  he  knows  what  he  is 
about.  I  have  carefully  studied  the  subject, 
and  I  see  no  reason  why  making  iodine  in  this 
country  should  not  be  a  remunerative  business. 
We  have  the  same  material  as  they  have  in 
Europe,  and  certainly  we  have  as  intelligent 
workmen.  Will  you  take  me  into  partnership, 
Miss  Hope  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Iodine  is  rising  in  the  market ;  every  one 
wants  an  interest  in  the  business,  first  Mrs.  Rose 
and  now  you,"  said  Hope,  laughing  awkwardly 
as  she  turned  away  her  head  to  avoid  the  earnest 
look  he  bent  upon  her. 

"  I  want  a  different  interest,  a  different  part- 
nership," he  said,  as  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  by 
so  doing  overturned  and  demolished  the  struc- 
ture he  had  made  for  a  seat. 

"  You  have  forgotten  all  about  your  patient, 
the  girl  with  disease  of  the  heart;  where  is  she?" 
said  Hope,  also  rising  and  walking  rapidly  up 
the  path  to  the  Cliff. 

"  No,  indeed,  I  have  not  forgotten  her.  I  did 
not  say  that  she  has  disease  of  the  heart.  I 
surely  could  not  have  used  such  an  ugly  word," 
he  said  laughingly,  as  a  few  rapid  strides  brought 


112      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

him  to  the  side  of  the  young  girl.  In  another 
moment  he  had  seized  her  hand,  and  held  it  so 
firmly  in  his  grasp  that  all  her  efforts  to  with- 
draw it  were  in  vain.  "  I  said,"  he  continued, 
looking  at  her  with  his  brightest  smile, "  that  I 
hoped  to  find  my  patient  with  a  sympathetic  af- 
fection of  the  heart,  which  would  yield  to  proper 
treatment." 

"  Dr.  Cashel,  what  do  you  mean  ?  "  exclaimed 
Hope  indignantly,  as  with  a  violent  wrench  she 
released  her  hand,  and  stood  facing  him  with 
cheeks  flushing  hotly.  "  I  am  not  your  patient. 
My  heart  is  entirely  free  from  any  sympathetic 
feeling  for  any  one." 

He  thinks  I  care  for  him ;  he  shall  not  know 
that  he  is  right,  she  said  to  herself,  as  her  heart 
beat  fast  and  she  walked  on  as  rapidly  as  her 
feet  would  carry  her. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  said  pleadingly,  easily  keep- 
ing pace  with  her.  "I  interpreted  your  feel- 
ings by  my  own.  I  thought,  I  hoped  "  —  He 
stopped  suddenly.  His  voice  thrilled  through 
her  whole  being  as  the  intensity  of  the  tones 
told  of  the  feeling  which  inspired  them.  She 
longed  to  turn,  and  with  a  look  speak  the  an- 
swer for  which  he  waited. 

But  pride  kept  that  answer  back  and  whis- 
pered, "  He  is  rich  ;  he  naturally  thinks  any  girl 
would  be  glad  to  marry  him.  He  shall  not  think 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          113 

that  I  have  tried  to  make  him  care  for  me." 
Steeling  her  heart  with  these  thoughts,  she  spoke 
the  cold,  heartless  words  she  was  far  from  feel- 
ing; words  which  had  no  sooner  left  her  lips 
than  she  would  have  given  worlds  to  recall  them. 

"  You  are  right,  I  was  mistaken,"  and  the 
tone  in  which  he  spoke  was  so  strange  that  she 
stole  a  quick  glance  at  him.  Every  particle  of 
color  had  left  his  face,  and  the  rigid  look  of  his 
set  features  made  him  seem  years  older. 

They  had  by  this  time  reached  the  house,  and 
Dr.  Cashel,  busying  himself  in  unfastening  his 
horse,  said  coldly  :  "  It  is  growing  late  ;  are  you 
ready  ?  " 

As  he  held  out  his  hand  to  assist  her  in  get- 
ting into  the  wagon  the  cheery  voice  of  farmer 
Truman  was  heard,  "Why!  yer  ain't  a  goin' 
without  seein'  the  old  woman  ?  "  and  the  next 
moment  the  farmer  came  up  with  the  rapid 
trot  which  was  his  gait  when  in  a  hurry.  "  My 
old  woman  '11  feel  reel  bad  ef  yer  go  without 
eatin'  a  bit  of  her  Johnnie  cake,"  he  said,  af- 
ter he  had  acknowledged  with  a  duck  of  his 
head  the  presence  of  Dr.  Cashel.  "  She  seen 
yer  goin'  by,  an'  wants  ter  see  yer,  Miss  Hope  ; 
she  's  got  lots  to  tell  yer  'bout  them  there  work- 
men up  at  the  big  house ;  they  're  comin'  fust 
thing  in  the  mornin',  an'  she  don't  know  what 
ter  tell  'em  'bout  the  paintin'  of  them  back 
rooms." 


114      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  Should  you  mind,  Dr.  Cashel,  if  I  stayed 
out  here  to-night?"  asked  Hope,  looking  in- 
tently at  the  ground.  "  Mrs.  Truman  can  put 
me  in  the  little  room  she  calls  mine,  and  I  can 
go  in  with  the  milk  in  the  morning,  can  I  not, 
Mr.  Truman  ?  "  and  she  turned  with  a  smile  to 
the  farmer,  who  warmly  assured  her  that  the  lit- 
tle room  was  quite  ready  for  her,  and  that  "  he 
guessed  he  could  fix  up  somethin'  better  than  the 
milk  wagon  to  take  her  into  Newport  any  time 
she  wanted  to  go." 

"  I  ought  to  see  the  workmen  before  they  be- 
gin work,"  said  Hope,  half  apologetically  to  her 
late  escort. 

"  You  are  quite  right  to  stay,"  he  answered 
indifferently.  "I  will  call  at  your  house  and 
leave  word  that  you  will  be  in  with  the  milk  in 
the  morning." 

He  took  no  notice  of  her  brief  "  thanks,"  but 
jumping  into  the  wagon,  gathered  up  the  reins, 
and  with  a  cordial  "  Good  evening "  to  the 
farmer,  and  ceremoniously  lifting  his  hat  to 
Hope  without  looking  at  her,  drove  rapidly  off. 

The  occupant  of  the  neat,  white -curtained 
guest-chamber  of  the  farmhouse  passed  a  rest- 
less, sleepless  night.  As  she  reviewed  the  scene 
between  Dr.  Cashel  and  herself  she  felt  how 
foolishly,  how  heartlessly,  she  had  acted.  Bit- 
terly she  repented  of  her  folly  in  spurning  the 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          115 

love  for  which  she  secretly  yearned.  Her  heart 
thrilled  with  the  recollection  of  the  passionate 
eloquence  he  had  poured  out  with  all  the  depth 
of  his  strong  nature.  And  she  had  rejected 
this  love,  which  might  have  made  life  so  bright 
with  the  sunshine  of  mutual  tastes  and  sympa- 
thy. She  had  deliberately  turned  from  the  fair 
prospect  spread  out  before  her,  to  tread  the 
lonely,  dreary  path  to  which  her  wretched  pride 
had  condemned  her.  For  of  course  he  would 
never  seek  her  again ;  he  would  never  forget  or 
forgive  the  repulse  with  which  she  had  met  his 
fond  words.  What  a  coquette  he  must  think 
her ;  had  she  not  accepted  his  attentions,  which 
had  seemed  trifling  at  the  time,  but  which  she 
now  felt  were  so  many  links  of  the  chain  which 
had  bound  their  hearts  together,  and  had  she 
not  suddenly  snapped  the  chain  and  scattered 
the  links  beyond  recall? 

"  I  guess  Miss  Hope  's  had  a  quarrel  with  her 
beau,  she  seemed  to  feel  so  bad  last  night,  poor 
dear,"  remarked  the  farmer's  wife,  as  she  busied 
herself  preparing  a  tempting  breakfast-tray  for 
her  guest. 

"  Should  n't  wonder,"  was  the  sententious  reply 
of  the  farmer,  who  was  getting  into  a  pair  of 
heavy  boots  in  preparation  for  a  rough  job  he 
had  laid  out  for  this  morning's  work. 

"  'Tain't  no  use  for  the  child  to  fret  herself 


116       STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

sick  for  any  man,"  said  the  good  dame.  "  He  '11 
be  glad  to  come  round,"  she  added,  thinking  of 
the  many  lovers'  quarrels  she  had  noticed  and 
seen  adjusted  between  her  own  girls  and  their 
beaux. 

"  He  did  n't  seem  like  one  of  the  coming 
round  kind,"  observed  the  farmer.  "  It 's  my 
opinion  Miss  Hope  's  lost  her  chance  of  gittin'  a 
good  husband." 

"  How  you  talk,  Abe  Truman  !  "  retorted  his 
wife.  "  Miss  Hope  's  young  and  pooty  ;  she  don't 
need  to  jump  at  the  fust  offer.  He's  too  old 
for  her,  anyhow.  Why,  he  must  be  a  good  forty, 
an'  she  nuthin'  but  a  gurl." 

"  Offers  don't  grow  on  trees  to  be  picked  any 
time  that 's  convenient,"  remarked  the  farmer ; 
with  which  sage  observation  he  left  the  house 
and  the  last  word  to  his  wife. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  FANCY  your  former  partner  domesticated 
in  Pliny's  Villa  overlooking  Lake  Como.  Yes, 
here  I  am,  playing  lawn  tennis  every  day  on 
the  grounds  which  once  belonged  to  the  great 
naturalist.  If  you  would  picture  to  yourself  the 
old  villa,  you  will  find  a  caricatured  sugges- 
tion of  it  in  the  '  Nesso  on  Como,'  painted  on 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          117 

the  drop-curtain  of  the  Newport  Opera  House. 
True,  this  is  '  Coino  on  Como '  and  not  '  Nesso 
on  Como/  but  this  villa,  like  the  one  shown 
on  the  curtain,  is  a  tall  house,  with  a  long 
flight  of  steps  leading  to  the  lake  below.  Here 
I  am,  recovering  from  Roman  malaria  and 
studying  nature,  much  more  perfect  than  art, 
in  the  beauties  of  a  modern  pocket  Venus  far 
more  attractive  than  all  the  antiques.  My  Venus 
is  just  the  height  of  the  Venus  de  Medici,  but 
much  more  graceful  and  natural.  She  has 
chestnut  curls  just  'kissed  by  the  sun,'  as  the 
poets  say ;  eyes  glancing  so  merrily  that  it  is 
difficult  to  catch  their  varying  hue,  —  I  think, 
though,  they  are  deep  blue  ;  a  fascinating  little 
mouth  which  is  forever  twisting  into  mischiev- 
ous smiles  quite  peculiar  to  itself,  and  which  is 
full  of  teeth  just  like  real  pearls.  Her  name  is 
Pearl,  and  it  suits  her  admirably. 

"  As  I  said  before,  I  had  malaria,  and  the  doc- 
tor ordered  me  away  from  Rome.  By  a  happy 
concatenation  of  circumstances,  the  Hartleys, 
my  charmer's  people,  were  just  then  leaving  the 
Eternal  City,  where  they  had  been  all  winter, 
for  Milan,  and  as  they  wanted  an  agreeable  com- 
pagnon  de  voyage  they  asked  me  to  join  their 
party.  From  Milan  we  naturally  came  to  Como. 
Pearl  was  so  fascinated  with  the  queer  old  town 
that  she  persuaded  her  parents  to  hire  this  villa, 


118       STRA  Y  LEA  VRS  FROM  NE  WPORT. 

which  happened  to  be  vacant,  and  here  we  have 
been  for  a  fortnight.  The  Hartleys  are  so  kind 
they  will  not  hear  of  my  leaving,  so  on  I  stay 
from  week  to  week,  enjoying  amazingly  this  very 
dolcefar  niente" 

"Quite  too  dolce  for  him  to  leave  it  in  a 
hurry,"  remarked  Hope,  turning  from  the  letter 
she  had  been  reading  aloud  in  the  Rosery  stu- 
dio, where  she  sat  with  the  owner  of  the  pretty 
cottage. 

"  Fancy  playing  lawn  tennis  at  Pliny's  Villa," 
she  added  contemptuously ;  "  he  could  have  done 
that  if  he  had  stayed  in  Newport." 

"  And  not  have  had  malaria,"  continued  her 
hostess,  laughing.  "  But  you  forget,  Hope,  that 
tennis  is  a  very  old  game ;  perhaps  even  the 
scientific  Pliny  and  his  learned  nephew  may 
have  found  a  distraction  in  it  from  graver  pur- 
suits. It  is  strange,"  she  added,  "  that  Charlie 
Williams  should  be  living  in  that  historic  villa. 
I  remember  we  once  visited  it,  my  husband  and 
I,  years  ago.  Yes,  Como  is  a  very  interesting 
old  town ;  there  are  souvenirs  of  the  Plinys, 
uncle  and  nephew,  everywhere  about  the  place ; 
they  sit  large  as  life  on  the  facade  of  the  cathe- 
dral ;  they  are  to  be  seen  in  statuettes  in  the 
quaint  old  shops  in  the  covered  streets." 

"  I  fancy  Charlie  and  his  pocket  Venus  do 
not  trouble  themselves  much  about  souvenirs  of 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          119 

the  Pliny  family,"  said  Hope,  laughing.  "  He 
says,''  she  continued,  referring  to  the  letter, 
"  that  he  is  getting  strong,  and  hopes  to  be  an 
Hercules  next  winter,  and  accomplish  something 
great.  Bah !  Charlie  will  never  amount  to 
much  as  an  artist.  He  will  probably  marry  his 
Pearl,  as  she  and  all  the  family  seem  to  have 
taken  such  a  fancy  to  him,  and  his  life  will 
degenerate  into  a  comfortable  existence.  He  will 
be  a  dabbler  in  art,  perhaps,  but  not  an  artist ; 
he  needs  the  stimulus  of  necessity  to  make  him 
use  his  talents." 

"  Can  she  be  jealous  ?  "  thought  Mrs.  Rose, 
marking  the  emphasis  of  Hope's  tone.  Then 
she  said  aloud,  "This  may  be  a  mere  passing 
fancy  on  Charlie's  part,  distracting  him  from  the 
winter's  work." 

"But  out  of  the  fullness  of  the  heart  the 
mouth  speaketh,"  replied  the  girl,  meeting  her 
companion's  gaze  with  a  perfectly  frank  one, 
which  dissipated  the  latter's  secret  suspicion. 

"  Charlie's  mind  can  never  hold  more  than 
one  idea  at  a  time  ;  just  now  it  seems  quite  en- 
grossed by  this  Pearl  Hartley.  I  wonder  what 
sort  of  a  girl  she  is.  Charlie  is  so  easily  in- 
fluenced. If  she  be  clever,  she  may  make  some- 
thing of  him." 

Here  Mrs.  Rose  was  called  out  of  the  room 
by  some  domestic  arrangements,  and  Hope,  left  to 


120     STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

herself,  turned  again  to  her  letter,  and  the  follow- 
ing paragraph  immediately  arrested  her  attention : 
"  There  are  some  Americans,  friends  of  yours, 
in  Como,"  Charlie  wrote,  —  "  Mr.  Hauteri ve  and 
his  very  beautiful  daughter.  She  is  too  much 
of  the  Venus  de  Milo,  or  the  Juno,  for  my  taste, 
but  most  persons  rave  over  her  beauty.  The 
old  gentleman  became  ill  at  a  wretched  little 
place  near  here,  where  fortunately  for  him  an 
American  doctor  had  arrived  a  few  days  pre- 
vious. The  doctor  brought  Mr.  Hauterive  on  to 
Como  as  soon  as  it  was  practicable,  and  the  old 
gentleman  is  slowly  improving  under  the  com- 
bined care  of  '  il  Dottore  Americano  '  and  the 
beautiful  Hilda.  Mrs.  Hartley  and  Pearl  are 
convinced  that  this  sick-room  propinquity  will 
certainly  result  in  a  marriage  between  the  doctor 
—  who  is  said  to  be  very  rich  —  and  the  daugh- 
ter of  his  patient.  But  for  my  part  I  don't 
believe  this  dark,  mysterious-looking,  unimpres- 
sionable mcdicus  could  possibly  care  for  any 
woman,  no  matter  how  beautiful." 

"Tall,  dark,  mysterious,  an  American,  and  a 
doctor,"  mused  Hope  ;  "yes,  it  is,  it  must  be  he. 
And  he  i.s  in  Como  with  everything  around  him 
to  lead  to  love  for  the  beautiful,  the  fascinating 
creature  whom  he  sees  daily,  hourly.  He  must 
love  her,  he  cannot  help  it.  lie  will  see  her  at 
her  best ;  she  adores  her  father.  They  will  have 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          121 

that  mutual  interest  to  draw  them  to  each  other. 
They  have  so  much  in  common,  in  intellectual 
tastes,"  and  Hope  pictured  to  herself  the  man 
reading  in  his  full,  deep  tones,  the  verses  of 
some  Italian  poet,  and  the  listener's  beautiful 
eyes  fixed  upon  his  face  ;  or  she  fancied  the 
musician  drawing  from  the  instrument  the  soul- 
stirring  strains  to  which  she  had  listened  in  the 
very  room  in  which  she  then  sat,  and  which 
memory  brought  back  to  her  aching  heart. 

Steps  and  gay  voices  in  the  hall  recalled  her 
from  torturing  fancy  to  the  actual  present.  She 
thrust  the  letter  hastily  into  her  pocket,  forced 
back  the  tide  of  thought,  and  composed  face  and 
voice  to  society  smile  and  tone,  to  greet  the 
entrance  of  Mrs.  Rose's  guests. 

"  How  I  wish  I  could  take  you  with  me  to 
Bar  Harbor ;  you  need  a  change,  my  child,  your 
cares  have  been  too  much  for  you  all  summer," 
said  Mrs.  Rose,  a  few  days  later,  as  she  looked 
about  the  room  to  see  that  nothing  was  left  that 
should  be  taken  on  the  journey. 

"  Plow  I  wish  I  could  go  !  "  heartily  responded 
the  girl.  "  If  wishes  were  horses  beggars  might 
ride.  I  think,"  she  added,  in  a  pessimistic 
tone  quite  unusual  to  her,  "  that  the  pleasures  of 
anticipation  far  exceed  those  of  reality.  I  once 
thought  that  if  I  could  live  at  White  Cliff,  to 
say  nothing  of  succeeding  in  making  some 


122      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

money  for  myself,  I  should  be  the  happiest  of 
mortals.  Yet,  now  that  both  these  dreams  are 
realized"  — 

"  You  are  not  quite  happy,"  interrupted  her 
companion,  kissing  the  girl's  pale  cheek.  "  Cheer 
up,  my  child,  brighter  days  will  come." 

The  Newport  season,  so  gay  to  many  of  her 
young  friends,  had  proved  a  very  sad  one  to  the 
young  girl.  Her  mother's  health,  never  very 
strong,  was  this  summer  more  than  usually  va- 
riable ;  and  Hope,  upon  whom  the  principal 
responsibility  rested,  felt  very  anxious  as  she 
watched  the  result  of  the  severe  spells  of  sick- 
ness with  which  Mrs.  Ashton  was  continually 
attacked. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  summer  Sam  Mavery 
suddenly  ended  his  existence  in  a  fit  of  delirium 
tremens.  It  was  found,  when  his  affairs  were 
looked  into,  that  fast  living  and  lavish  expendi- 
ture had  very  much  diminished  his  fortune ;  and 
his  widow  found  it  convenient  to  accept  an  invi- 
tation to  come  with  her  children  and  visit  her 
family,  until,  as  she  wrote  her  mother,  she  could 
look  a  little  about  her. 

Is  there  anything  more  wearing  to  the  mind 
and  body  of  an  habitually  busy  person  than  the 
constant  interruption  and  call  upon  the  attention 
by  an  habitually  idle  being,  who  wishes  to  be 
perpetually  amused,  finds  everything  a  bore,  and 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          123 

is  constantly  boring  others  with  repining  and 
discontent  ? 

Belle  Mavery  detested  the  country,  and  was 
never  contented  without  excitement  and  society. 
Obliged  by  the  proprieties  to  renounce  the  lat- 
ter for  a  season,  and  forced  into  the  former  by 
circumstances,  she  was  anything  but  an  agree- 
able daily  companion. 

Even  her  indulgent  mother  felt  the  depress- 
ing effect  of  her  perpetual  complaints.  To 
Hope  it  was  almost  intolerable ;  but  for  the 
children,  of  whom  she  was  exceedingly  fond,  and 
with  whom  she  was  glad  to  wander  about  the 
grounds  of  White  Cliff,  to  explain  to  them  the 
different  mysteries  of  nature,  and  enjoy  the 
freshness  of  feeling  and  the  bright  ideas  of 
their  young  minds,  —  but  for  this  relief  Hope 
could  scarcely  have  borne  as  patiently  as  she 
did  the  intrusion  upon  her  time,  the  distrac- 
tion to  her  occupations,  and  the  solitude  of  her 
thoughts.  It  was  irritating  to  the  girl's  nerves 
to  see  her  sister  aimlessly  wandering  about  the 
rooms,  criticising  the  arrangement  of  the  furni- 
ture, wondering  what  in  the  world  there  was  to 
do,  bemoaning  the  fate  which  had  deprived  her 
of  her  own  luxurious  home,  and  sometimes,  to  the 
great  trial  of  Hope's  patience,  —  for  although 
she  had  not  been  blind  to  her  brother-in-law's 
defects  she  had  appreciated  his  good  qualities, 


124      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

and  knew  how  his  life  had  been  embittered,  his 
habits  perhaps  confirmed,  by  his  unhappy  life  at 
home, —  sometimes  she  was  called  upon  to  listen, 
in  astonished  silence,  to  the  widow's  exaggerated 
expressions  of  regret  for  his  loss,  and  to  the 
vivid  pictures  of  the  happiness  the  bereaved  one 
had  enjoyed  with  "  poor,  dear  Sam." 

"  What  a  convenient  memory  and  what  a 
lively  imagination  Belle  has,"  thought  Hope, 
after  one  of  these  word  pictures. 

These  moods  of  the  widow  were  less  jarring 
to  the  refined  instincts  and  delicate  organization 
of  her  sister  than  when  poor  Sam  and  his  delin- 
quencies were  the  theme  of  his  "  relict's  "  dis- 
course. Quite  forgetting  the  grief  which  she 
had  on  other  occasions  expressed,  Mrs.  Mavery 
would  often  bitterly  reproach  the  departed  with 
his  gambling  and  extravagance,  as  the  cause  of 
her  present  wretched  condition. 

The  long  winter  dragged  its  slow  length  with 
the  various  disjointed  elements  of  the  White 
Cliff  household.  Belle's  foreign  servants  caused 
constant  disquietude  to  her  mother's  regular  old- 
fashioned  ones,  and  Hope  was  obliged  to  exert 
all  her  tact  to  keep  things  straight.  The  young 
widow  managed  to  get  through  the  day  with  a 
late  breakfast,  novel  reading,  and  drives  to 
Newport  in  the  pretty  coupe"  with  its  gray  horse, 
which  she  had  saved  from  the  wreck  of  her  for- 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          125 

tune,  aiid  which  she  was  wont  to  say,  with  her 
sweet,  subdued  smile,  "  Dear  maintna  is  so  kind 
as  to  keep  for  ine."  She  filled  up  some  vacant 
hours  by  taking  an  interest  in  the  bachelor 
chaplain  of  a  United  States  naval  training-ship 
which  lay  that  winter  in  Newport  harbor. 

The  Rev.  Richard  Richards  sometimes 
preached  for  the  rector  of  one  of  the  churches 
in  Newport.  He  hired  a  room  in  the  town,  his 
duties  on  board  ship  being  light,  and  giving  him 
considerable  time  at  his  own  disposal ;  and  as 
he  had  iron-claded  his  heart  with  a  vow  of  celi- 
bacy, he  did  not  scruple  to  accept  the  frequent 
invitations  to  tea  extended  him  by  the  widows 
and  maidens  of  the  aforesaid  congregation,  many 
of  whom  came  to  prefer  the  ten-minutes'-dura- 
tion  discourses  of  the  single  divine  with  a  head 
of  abundant  black  hair,  inch  of  whisker  on  each 
cheek,  and  very  High  Church  views,  to  the  more 
lengthy  sermons  of  the  regular  minister  of  the 
parish,  who  was  a  very  much  married  man,  with 
grown-up  sons  and  daughters.  Some  innovations 
bordering  too  much  on  Rome,  which  the  chap- 
lain tried  to  introduce  into  the  services,  did  not 
suit  the  orthodox  views  of  the  rector  or  of  the 
older  and  more  conservative  members  of  the 
congregation,  and  gradually  one  of  those  divi- 
sions so  common  in  churches  grew  up  in  this 
one.  Whereupon  the  celibate  parson  confided 


126      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

to  his  adherents  his  intention  soon  to  resign 
from  the  navy  and,  with  the  assistance  of  his 
friends,  to  build  a  church  of  his  own ;  a  float- 
ing chapel,  not  only  for  the  benefit  of  sailors 
who  found  themselves  on  shore,  but  to  accom- 
modate any  wanderers  his  ministrations  might 
attract ;  the  services  of  which  chapel  should  be 
conducted  by  the  Rev.  Richard  Richards  him- 
self, according  to  his  own  ideas. 

Among  those  who  entered  into  this  plan,  and 
who  promised  her  hearty  cooperation  in  pro- 
curing funds  for  the  proposed  church,  was  the 
fair  widow  at  White  Cliff,  who  made  it  a  point 
to  attend  "  old  Trinity,"  whenever  the  chaplain 
preached  there.  What  wonder  that  this  flatter- 
ing interest  in  him  and  his  affairs  should  cause 
the  single  parson  to  annihilate  time  and  space 
between  Newport  and  White  Cliff,  with  the  aid 
of  a  horse  and  buggy,  which  his  pay  as  chaplain 
permitted  him  to  keep,  and  that  the  Rev.  Mira- 
bile  Dictu,  as  Hope  called  him,  should  frequently 
take  pity  upon  the  solitude  of  the  fair  widow. 
"  I  go  nowhere,  except  to  church,"  the  latter 
would  remark,  with  her  most  bewitching  smile, 
and  those  lingering  soft  accents  which  seemed 
to  belong  to  her  light  nature, "  and  I  am  always 
glad  to  see  my  minister." 

"  What  does  your  mother  think  of  your  sis- 
ter's 'pious  flirtation,'  as  you  call  it?"  asked 
Mrs.  Rose  one  day  of  Hope. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          127 

"  Mamma  is  confined  to  her  room  most  of  the 
time  with  neuralgia,  and  she  has  so  little  va- 
riety in  her  life  that  she  doubly  enjoys  having 
Belle  and  the  children  at  White  Cliff,  and  is 
very  glad  of  any  distraction  which  will  keep 
Belle  contented,"  was  the  reply.  "  Beside,  she 
knows  very  well  that  my  sister  will  drop  the 
parson  in  the  summer,  and  in  the  gay  season 
she  will  be  sure  to  find  an  admirer  to  suit." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  of  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Richards,  Hope?  Has  he  enrolled  you  in  the 
sisterhood  he  is  organizing  for  his  new  church  ?  " 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I  don't  think  about  him  at  all,  ex- 
cept to  see  that  we  have  '  Angel  cake,'  when  he 
conies  to  tea,"  answered  Hope  laughing.  "  Sister 
wanted  me  to  join  the  society  of  'The  Busy 
Bees,'  which  she  says  is  so  pleasant.  It  meets 
at  the  houses  of  the  different  members,  and 
Mirabile  Dictu  reads  aloud,  while  the  sisters  sew 
for  the  poor.  I  am  busy  bee  enough  at  home, 
and  prefer  improving  my  '  shining  hours '  by 
reading  to  myself  rather  than  by  being  read  to 
by  any  one ;  so  I  declined  the  membership.  But 
I  am  very  glad  that  sister  finds  the  chaplain's 
conversation  and  elocution  interesting.  It  was 
dull  for  her  at  White  Cliff  until  she  took  to  the 
parson.  There  is  nothing  so  difficult  as  trying 
to  amuse  persons  who  will  not,  or  cannot,  amuse 


128      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

themselves.  I  pity  those  who  have  no  resources. 
Belle  was  a  dead  weight  upon  my  hands  until 
Mr.  Richards  relieved  me  and  left  me  free  to  at- 
tend to  mamma,  who  is  in  such  wretched  health 
that  she  requires  constant  care.  Then  I  have 
my  housekeeping  and  my  accounts  to  take  up 
my  time.  You  know  I  make  butter  ?  I  have  be- 
come a  famous  butter-maker,"  she  added  gayly. 
"  You  must  come  and  see  my  beautiful  Alder- 
neys.  I  call  one  /o,  because  I  bought  her  with 
an  unexpected  rise  in  iodine." 

"  O  Hope,  you  are  incorrigible.  So  you  make 
butter  and  iodine,  and  find  time  for  the  fine 
arts  beside,"  said  Mrs.  Rose,  glancing  towards 
a  marine  water-colored  sketch  which  Hope  had 
brought  for  her  friend's  criticism.  "  Really, 
child,  you  take  my  breath  away  with  the  mere 
enumeration  of  your  occupations." 

"  I  make  butter,  but  not  iodine,"  answered 
Hope.  "  Ben  Truman  attends  to  that ;  I  am 
only  a  silent  partner.  We  are  doing  famously 
in  the  business,"  she  added  enthusiastically. 
"  The  seaweed  is  now  burnt  upon  a  piece  of 
waste  land  which  we  leased,  and  which  is  so  far 
from  the  house  that  neither  mamma  nor  sister 
can  any  longer  complain  of  the  'horrid  smell.' 
We  have  a  demand  from  one  firm  in  New  York 
for  as  much  of  the  drug  as  we  can  supply.  I 
am  putting  aside  all  my  iodine  money  to  build 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          129 

a  greenhouse  leading  out  of  the  dining-room. 
I  hope  to  surprise  mamma  with  it  in  about  six 
mouths." 

"And  all  this  planning  for  the  comfort  of 
others  is  making  you  pale  and  thin,"  said  Mrs. 
Rose,  looking  affectionately  at  her  companion. 
"  You  need  a  change.  Hope,  I  wish  you  coidd 
go  with  me  to  Florida." 

"  To  Florida !  "  echoed  Hope.  "  O  Mrs.  Eose, 
what  shall  I  do  without  you !  " 

"  Come  with  me,  I  shall  only  be  gone  two  or 
three  months." 

"  How  I  wish  I  could ! "  answered  Hope,  "  but 
it  is  impossible,  I  could  not  leave  mamma. 
Surely  you  are  not  ill.  Why  do  you  go  South  ?  " 

"  To  take  charge  of  Nina,  my  niece  ;  she  has 
grown  too  rapidly,  and  the  doctor  says  she  must 
be  taken  away  from  school  in  Philadelphia, 
where  she  has  been  for  the  past  three  years, 
and  have  a  warmer  climate.  There  is  no  one 
else  to  take  her,  so  I  must.  I  wish  I  knew 
where  to  find  Harvey  Cashel.  I  should  like  to 
get  his  opinion  about  Nina,  and  I  should  like 
him  to  go  with  us.  But  no  one  knows  where  he 
is.  He  has  not  been  heard  from  for  months." 

There  was  a  silence  of  a  few  minutes,  after 
which  Hope  said,  in  a  tone  which  she  tried  to 
make  indifferent,  but  which  sounded  strange 
and  unnatural  to  herself :  "  Dr.  Cashel  is  in 
Europe  ;  he  is  traveling  with  the  Hauterives." 


130      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  Traveling  with  the  Hauterives  !  "  repeated 
Mrs.  Rose,  with  a  voice  and  look  of  amazement. 
"  How  did  you  hear  that  ?  " 

Then  Hope  told  how  Charlie  Williams  had 
written  of  having  met  the  Hauterives  at  Como, 
and  had  spoken  of  the  devotion  and  skillful 
attendance  upon  Mr.  Hauterive  of  an  American 
doctor,  who,  from  the  description,  was  evidently 
Dr.  Cashel. 

"  But  there  is  no  certainty  that  it  is  he,"  said 
Mrs.  Rose.  "  However,"  she  added,  "  it  is  not 
at  all  unlikely  ;  Harvey  Cashel  is  just  the  man 
to  change  all  his  plans  and  sacrifice  his  own 
comfort  to  benefit  any  one  in  need.  He  is  the 
most  unselfish  of  men.  I  know  you,  Hope, 
never  liked  him." 

A  bitter  smile  curved  the  young  girl's  lips, 
but  she  kept  silent,  glad  that  her  secret  was 
safe. 

"  Of  course,"  continued  Mrs.  Rose,  "  he  must 
have  gone  to  Europe,  or  he  would  have  put  in 
an  appearance  before  this.  He  thinks  nothing 
of  *  running  across,'  as  he  calls  it.  How  strange," 
she  said,  suddenly  turning  to  her  companion, 
"  that  you  never  spoke  of  this  before." 

"  As  you  said,  it  is  only  a  surmise  that  it  is 
Dr.  Cashel,"  replied  the  young  girl  calmly,  glad 
that  her  tell-tale  face  was  screened  from  view. 
"  Perhaps  he  will  marry  Hilda  Hauterive,"  she 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  131 

added,  speaking  from  an  impulse,  the  result  of 
a  train  of  thought  she  had  been  pursuing  while 
her  companion  talked  and  she  herself  watched 
the  flame  from  the  huge  blazing  log  across  the 
tall  brass  andirons  gradually  curl  around  the 
small  bits  of  wood  which  lay  beneath  it. 

"  Marry  Hilda  Hauterive  ?  Never !  Harvey 
Cashel  will  never  marry  anybody  ;  he  is  wedded 
to  his  profession.  I  do  not  believe  the  woman 
lives  who 'could  make  a  serious  impression  upon 
him.  He  would  make  an  admirable  husband, 
but  he  will  never  find  the  woman  to  suit  him, 
least  of  all  would  he  marry  Hilda  Hauterive." 

"  And  yet  she  is  so  beautiful,  and  can  be  so 
fascinating,  and  he  will  see  her  at  her  best,  in 
that  most  dangerous  of  all  intimacies,  daily  life, 
with  one  common  interest,  her  father's  health. 
Hilda  idolizes  her  father,  and  will  be  grateful 
for  all  Dr.  Cashel's  care,"  continued  Hope,  as 
though  talking  to  herself. 

"  I  grant  you  that  propinquity  is  the  greatest 
of  all  matchmakers,"  replied  Mrs.  Rose ;  "  but 
as  I  said  before,  I  do  not  believe  Harvey  Cashel 
will  ever  ask  any  woman  to  marry  him." 

Again  Hope  smiled  sadly  to  herself  as  she 
thought  how  little  her  dear  friend  knew  those 
whom  she  thought  she  knew  best;  and  a  thrill 
ran  through  the  girl  as  she  recalled  the  scene 
at  White  Cliff,  and  heard  again  the  passionate 


132      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

words  in  which  he  had  offered  her  his  heart. 
Even  if  he  should  marry  another  she  had  the 
conviction  that  she  had  had  his  first  love. 

"  After  all,"  said  Mrs.  Rose,  "  it  may  be  but 
surmise  on  our  part  that  Dr.  Cashel  is  in 
Europe.  We  may  hear  of  his  being  in  Africa. 
I  think  that  quarter  of  the  globe  still  remains 
for  him  to  explore." 

The  following  week  Mrs.  Rose  and  her  charge 
left  Newport  for  their  southern  journey.  As 
Hope  bade  farewell  to  her  friend  on  the  steamer 
Eolus,  she  put  a  letter  into  Mrs.  Rose's  hand. 
"  I  received  this  letter  from  Paris  yesterday," 
she  said,  "  you  will  see  by  it  that  our  surmises 
were  quite  correct."  And  this  was  what  Mrs. 
Rose  read  as  she  sat  in  the  cabin  of  the  boat 
going  to  Wickford  en  route  for  New  York  :  — 


PARIS,  January 

DEAR  HOPE,  —  I  presume  the  faire  part  of 
my  marriage  has  already  apprised  you  of  that 
event.  We  had  intended  to  have  a  gay  wed- 
ding, but  a  few  days  before  the  day  fixed  for  it 
papa  was  taken  so  ill  that  all  the  arrangements 
were  changed.  Papa  would  not  hear  of  a  post- 
ponement of  the  marriage  as  I  proposed,  and 
Dr.  Cashel  said  it  would  never  do  to  oppose  his 
wishes,  so  we  were  married  very  quietly  with 
only  the  indispensable  witnesses  present  Of 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          133 

course  I  could  not  think  of  leaving  papa  in  his 
precarious  state  of  health,  even  for  a  day,  so  we 
did  not  take  any  wedding  journey.  We  are  all 
going  to  Cannes  for  a  couple  of  months,  and  in 
the  spring  Dr.  Cashel  thinks,  if  papa  does  not 
have  a  relapse,  we  may  venture  to  take  him 
back  to  America,  and  pass  the  summer  at  New- 
port. 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  grateful  I  feel  to  our 
doctor  for  all  his  skill  and  devotion.  I  am  quite 
too  tired  and  sleepy  to  write  another  word, 
than  —  Yours  sincerely, 

HILDA. 

"  Wonders  will  never  cease,"  said  Mrs.  Rose 
mentally,  as  she  folded  up  the  letter  and  put  it 
in  her  pocket.  "  To  think  that  Harvey  Cashel 
should  have  been  caught  by  a  beautiful  coquette. 
He  whom  I  thought  the  last  man  to  marry  at 
all.  I  shall  cease  to  pride  myself  upon  my  pene- 
tration." 


CHAPTER  X. 

HOPE  was  spoiling  her  eyes  one  afternoon, 
trying  to  catch  the  last  rays  of  sunset  in  a  sketch 
she  was  making  from  her  window,  when  her 
sister  rushed  into  the  room  with  the  impetuosity 


134      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

which  betokened  extreme  satisfaction  with  life, 
or  the  reverse.  This  time  there  was  no  doubt 
of  her  contentment,  for  she  embraced  the  young 
artist  most  effusively,  to  the  great  inconvenience 
of  the  latter,  who  was  utterly  unprepared  for  this 
sudden  burst  of  affection. 

"  What  has  happened,  or  what  is  going  to 
happen  ?  "  exclaimed  Hope,  warding  off  another 
impending  gush,  and  protecting  her  picture  with 
her  other  hand.  "  How  well  you  look  to-day," 
she  cried,  struck  with  admiration  of  the  bright 
light  in  the  lovely  eyes  and  the  flush  on  the 
peachlike  cheek,  all  of  which  her  sister's  sober 
garb  brought  out  admirably.  "  I  must  take  a 
pastel  of  you  in  that  dress ;  it  is  wonderfully 
becoming." 

"  Do  you  like  it  ?  "  asked  Belle,  touching  re- 
spectfully the  rich  folds.  "  It  cost  a  mint  of 
money,  it  ought  to  be  handsome.  Clothes  are 
so  expensive,"  said  the  fair  speaker  with  a  sigh, 
as  she  placed  herself  before  a  mirror  and  pro- 
ceeded to  rearrange  the  golden  locks  which  had 
been  displaced  by  her  bonnet. 

"  Do  take  off  that  old  rag  and  dress  yourself, 
Hope  ;  it  is  almost  dinner  time.  Come,"  she 
added,  turning  gayly  to  her  sister,  "  make  your- 
self belle .  You  don't  know  who  is  coming." 

"  You  are  the  belle,  sister  mine,  de  facto  as 
well  as  nominally,  replied  Hope.  "  I  do  the 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          135 

useful  in  the  establishment  and  you  the  orna- 
mental. This  dress  is  not  an  '  old  rag,'  but  a 
very  nice  camel's  hair,  quite  good  enough  to  dine 
in  with  the  parson,  if  he  is  coming." 

"  Some  one  else  is  coming,  in  whom  you  do 
take  an  interest,  strong-minded  as  you  are, 
Hope.  Your  old  beau  is  in  Newport  and  is 
coming  here  to  dinner  to-day." 

The  color  fled  from  Hope's  cheeks.  She 
looked  up  into  Belle's  face  with  an  eager,  inquir- 
ing gaze. 

"  You  need  not  blush  so  much  about  it,  Hope. 
I  used  to  think  there  might  be  tendresse  on 
Charlie  Williams'  part  for  you,  but  "  — 

"  Charlie !  "  interrupted  Hope.  "  Is  Charlie 
really  back  in  Newport  ?  When  did  he  come  ? 
How  does  he  look  ?  " 

"  Whom  did  you  think  I  meant  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Mavery,  surprised  at  the  change  in  her  sister's 
manner.  "Yes,  Charlie  Williams  is  back  in 
Newport.  He  looks  very  handsome.  He  is  im- 
proved in  every  way.  He  came  here  in  a  steam 
yacht  belonging  to  a  friend  of  his,  whom  he 
asked  permission  to  present  to  us  when  the  friend 
comes  from  New  York,  where  Charlie  left  him. 
It  seems  he  is  a  rich  Bostonian,  who  travels 
about  for  his  own  pleasure.  Charlie  says  the 
Sprite  is  a  beautiful  yacht,  that  he  means  to  get 
Mr.  Fisher  to  ask  us  to  breakfast  on  board." 


136      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

"  But  your  mourning,  Belle  ;  how  can  you  go 
to  entertainments  on  board  of  yachts  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  should  not  go  to  a  party ;  but 
Charlie  says  he  will  try  to  arrange  a  quiet  little 
breakfast,  to  which  it  will  be  quite  proper  for 
me  to  go  ;  "  and  without  waiting  for  a  reply  to 
this  satisfactory  conciliation  of  propriety  with 
amusement,  the  pretty,  graceful  woman  whisked 
out  of  the  room  to  tighten  herself  into  a  still 
more  hour-glass  waist  for  the  edification  of 
Charlie  Williams,  whose  importance  had  vastly 
increased  in  her  eyes  since  his  return  upon  a 
rich  man's  steam  yacht.  Hope  smiled  as  she 
thought,  "  if  Charlie  is  not  the  rose,  he  sails 
with  it." 

The  dinner  was  a  very  merry  one.  Charlie's 
bright,  handsome  face,  —  he  looks,  more  like 
the  bust  of  the  Young  Augustus  than  ever, 
thought  Hope,  —  his  amusing  accounts  of  the 
people  and  places  he  had  seen,  made  him  a  most 
agreeable  guest.  Even  Mrs.  Ashton  quite  for- 
got that  she  had  once  dreaded  this  detrimental's 
attention  to  her  daughter,  and  laughed  as  heart- 
ily as  the  rest  at  the  stories  he  told  of  his  coun- 
trymen abroad ;  and  Belle,  seeing,  through  the 
medium  of  Charlie  Williams,  a  future  desperate 
flirtation  with  the  owner  of  the  yacht  Sprite, 
was  most  gracious  in  her  demeanor  towards  the 
friend  of  the  yachtsman,  and  quite  ignored  the 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          137 

mild  remarks  the  chaplain  essayed  from  time  to 
time. 

"  Poor  Mirabile  Dictu  has  a  forlorn  time  of  it 
to-day,"  thought  Hope,  casting  a  glance  of  com- 
passion at  the  melancholy  parson,  who  was  prob- 
ably cherishing  very  unchristianlike  feelings  for 
the  man  who  had  taken  all  the  wind  out  of  his 
sails. 

"  How  very  handsome  this  old  house  is !  " 
said  Charlie,  as  under  Hope's  guidance  he  made 
the  tour  of  the  White  Cliff  mansion.  "  There 
is  nothing  finer  in  architecture  than  these  square 
rooms  and  broad  hall ;  "  and  the  young  sculptor 
examined  critically  the  pattern  of  the  high  old- 
fashioned  wainscoting  which  ran  around  the  hall 
and  staircase. 

"That  staircase,"  said  Hope,  "is  much  ad- 
mired by  architects.  It  is  in  the  same  style  as 
the  pulpit  stairs  of  the  old  church  which  was 
bought  by  the  Newport  Historical  Society. 
Porter,  the  artist,  has  introduced  that  staircase 
into  a  charming  picture  he  made  of  a  New  York 
belle.  But  look  at  my  ancestors,  before  you 
leave  this  hall,"  and  she  pointed  to  the  picture 
of  an  imposing  individual  in  bag-wig  and  gown, 
and  to  a  stately  dame  in  rich  brocade,  stiff  stom- 
acher and  powdered  hair  with  flowers,  feathers, 
and  diamonds,  who  hung  beside  him.  "Those 


138      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

are  considered  very  fine  Copleys.  The  brocade 
painted  there  is  the  one  with  which  I  covered 
two  armchairs.  It  came  in  very  well  when  I 
was  fitting  up  White  Cliff." 

"  And  what  relation  was  the  stern-looking  old 
fellow  to  you  ?  "  asked  Charlie. 

"  The  stern-looking  old  fellow,  as  you  disre- 
spectfully call  him,  was  an  eminent  Lord  Chan- 
cellor of  England,  and  my  great-great-grand- 
father. That  lady  was  his  third  wife." 

"  I  think  you  have  inherited  your  Mormon 
ancestor's  mouth  and  chin  with  his  decided  dis- 
position," said  Charlie.  "  You  often  looked  quite 
as  severe,  when  you  scolded  me  in  the  dear  old 
days  of  our  Rose  Bush  partnership." 

"  I  am  afraid  my  scolding  did  not  produce 
much  effect,"  answered  Hope.  "You  threw 
away  your  time  very  recklessly  when  you  were 
out  of  my  sight ;  at  least  I  judge  so  by  the  little 
you  have  accomplished.  By  the  way,  Charlie, 
what  has  become  of  the  adorable  Pearl  of  whom 
you  wrote  so  much?" 

He  looked  confused  and  answered,  "  Oh,  that 
was  only  a  flirtation  pour  passer  le  temps,  when 
I  was  recovering  from  malaria.  Pearl  Hartley 
is  a  pretty  girl,  but  she  does  not  know  anything. 
Luckily  I  found  out  that  she  was  engaged  to  a 
cad  of  a  cousin,  who  came  out  to  Rome,  before  I 
committed  myself." 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          139 

"  And  the  charming  brunette  with  whom  you 
led  so  many  Germans  ?  " 

"  A  fellow  must  have  some  amusement  even 
in  the  pursuit  of  art,"  he  answered.  "The 
smile  of  a  living  fair  woman  is  far  more  en- 
trancing, and  does  more  to  spur  one  on,  than  the 
most  beautiful  marble  face  Greece  or  Rome  can 
show.  You  don't  know  how  often  I  longed  for 
a  smile  or  even  a  frown  from  you,  Hope.  The 
poet  is  right,  '  Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  hu- 
man breast.' " 

"  Don't  be  sentimental,  Charlie,  it  does  not 
suit  your  style,"  said  Hope,  laughing  at  the  ex- 
pression of  the  young  man's  face.  "  Come  and 
see  Aunt  Dorothy,  my  great-great-aunt,  whom  I 
am  said  to  resemble." 

She  led  the  way  to  the  drawing-room,  paneled 
in  white  and  gold,  the  ceiling  of  which  repre- 
sented a  blue  sky,  with  cherub  faces  looking 
through  fleecy  clouds  ;  the  whole  painted  by  a 
master  hand. 

"  What  gorgeous  mirrors !  How  well  they 
reflect  us  together,"  said  Charlie,  pausing  to  ad- 
mire himself,  as  he  stood  by  Hope  before  a  sheet 
of  glass  which  entirely  covered  one  space  of  the 
wall,  and  in  which  were  also  reflected  the  glass 
pendants  which  hung  in  prismatic  brilliancy 
from  the  great  chandelier  and  from  the  candela- 


140      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

bras  in  front  of  another  huge  mirror  over  the 
mantel. 

"  Fortunately  for  us  these  mirrors  do  not  suit 
modern  rooms,"  said  Hope,  "  and  mamma  was 
able  to  bid  them  in  very  cheap  when  they  were 
sold  at  auction  with  all  grandpapa's  furniture, 
after  his  death.  This  ceiling  is  considered  very 
beautiful,"  continued  Hope.  "  It  was  painted 
by  a  celebrated  French  painter  brought  out  by 
the  Ashton  who  built  White  Cliff,  a  millionaire 
who  lived  here  en  prince,  tradition  says." 

"  You  should  paint  little  historic  scenes  in  the 
panels  of  the  doors,  pictures  commemorative  of 
Newport's  days  of  romance,  in  the  style  of  the 
screen,  with  the  Romance  of  a  Rose,  which 
started  our  partnership,"  said  Charlie.  "  There 
is  in  Verona,"  he  continued,  "  an  inn  which  was 
formerly  an  old  palace  of  the  La  Scala  family, 
and  the  doors  are  painted  in  such  panel  pictures. 
By  the  way,  Hope,"  he  said  abruptly,  "  I  knocked 
off  a  piece  of  Juliet's  tomb  for  you  when  I  was 
in  Verona,  but  I  lost  the  bit  of  old  horse  trough, 
—  for  it  looks  like  one.  I  will  get  you  another 
piece  if  I  go  back  to  Italy." 

"  If  you  go  back !  "  exclaimed  Hope,  in  a 
tone  of  alarm.  "  Of  course  you  must  go  back 
to  Italy,  and  study  hard,  and  do  something 
worthy  of  yourself." 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          141 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  answered,  in  a  despondent 
tone.  "  I  don't  believe  I  shall  ever  make  much 
of  a  sculptor.  If  I  had  your  perseverance,  or 
if  I  had  your  encouragement,  I  might  do  some- 
thing; but  art  is  such  slow  work.  I  have  a 
great  mind  to  give  it  up,  come  back  to  Newport, 
and  go  into  the  real  estate  business,  though 
that 's  pretty  well  run  into  the  ground  already." 

"You  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  inter- 
rupted Hope.  "You  shall  go  back  to  Rome 
and  distinguish  yourself.  You  have  plenty  of 
talent,  Charlie,  and  you  must  utilize  it.  You 
say  art  is  slow  work ;  so  is  everything  worth 
doing.  The  ladder  of  fame  is  hard  to  climb, 
but  think  of  the  glorious  prospect  of  success," 
and  Hope's  eyes  glowed  with  enthusiasm  as  she 
spoke. 

"But  suppose  one's  feet  give  out  in  climb- 
ing," said  Charlie  ;  "  suppose"  — 

"  You  must  not  suppose.  You  must  work," 
she  interrupted.  "  Take  '  Excelsior  '  for  your 
motto.  The  very  effort  one  makes  to  do  or  be 
something  gives  a  charm  and  interest  to  life. 
In  the  words  of  a  native  poet :  — 

"  'What  'a  worth  having  's  worth  pursuing; 

Indeed,  pursuit  is  half  the  fun. 
We  waste  much  precious  time  in  rueing 
That  we  have  wanted  what  we  've  won.  '  " 

"Bravo  for   the   native   poet   who   practices 


142      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT, 

what  she  preaches,"  cried  Charlie.  "  You  beat 
Tupper  altogether.  I  am  an  expert  in  Tupper. 
I  was  brought  up  on  his  '  Proverbial  Philosophy,' 
used  to  learn  it  at  a  penny  a  verse  for  my  pious 
grandmother,  who  told  me  it  was  'good  to  get 
plenty  of  Tupper  by  heart,'  that  he  would  '  come 
to  one,  sleepless  nights.'  He  came  to  me  in 
broad  daylight  in  the  shape  of  marbles,  when  I 
was  a  boy,  for  I  took  many  a  quarter  out  of 
Tupper 's  Philosophy  when  I  was  hard  up. 
Yours,  Hope,  I  learned  by  heart  much  easier, 
and  you  have  come  to  me  in  many  a  sleepless 
night  when  far  away  from  your  sweet  face." 

"  How  absurd  you  are,  Charlie,"  said  Hope, 
laughing  heartily.  "  But  here  is  great-great- 
aunt  Dorothy.  Do  you  think  I  look  like  her 
picture?  " 

"The  features  are  very  like,"  he  answered, 
gazing  earnestly  at  the  young  girl's  face,  "  but 
your  expression  is  far  better." 

"  Nonsense !  this  Dorothy  was  a  celebrated 
beauty.  But  some  day  I  will  put  on  her  pink 
brocade  which  is  in  the  garret,  and  powder  my 
hair,  and  receive  you  in  state  in  this  room  un- 
der the  picture,  and  you  shall  see  how  much  like 
my  ancestress  I  can  be." 

"  Do  ! "  he  answered.  "  Why  do  you  bang 
your  hair,  Hope?  it  is  not  classic." 

"  My  features  are  not  classic." 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          143 

"  Indeed  they  are,"  he  replied  eagerly.  "  It 
is  rare  to  see  such  a  beautiful  nose  as  you  have. 
Most  faces  weaken  on  noses.  '  Old  Chisel,'  who 
bosses  me,  used  to  swear  terribly  over  the  pugs 
and  snubs  he  was  often  obliged  to  put  into  mar- 
ble for  sitters.  He  would  have  fairly  rejoiced 
in  your  nose." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  answered,  with  an  air  of 
mock  dignity ;  "  one  would  imagine,  to  hear  you 
talk,  that  I  had  as  capacious  a  nose  as  that  of 
the  bronze  Carlo  Borrorneo,  which  statue,  if  I 
remember  correctly,  you  wrote  me  that  you  had 
enjoyed  exploring  with  Miss  Pearl  Hartley,  then 
the  object  of  your  inconstant  affections." 

"  Pshaw !  "  he  said,  "  what  a  dreadful  mem- 
ory you  have."  Then  turning  the  conversation 
abruptly  he  asked,  "  What  picture  is  this  ?  " 

It  was  the  Veronese  Dr.  Cashel  had  given 
Hope.  "  This  face,"  said  Charlie,  "  is  like  that 
of  that  beautiful  girl  at  Como  who  made  such  a 
dead-set  at  Dr.  Cashel.  She  might  as  well  have 
tried  to  make  an  impression  upon  the  stone 
Pliny  in  front  of  the  cathedral  there.  Dr. 
Cashel  will  never  marry  anybody." 

"  But  he  has  married  Hilda  Hauterive,"  re- 
plied Hope. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Charlie,  with  a  sudden 
spring  which  nearly  dislocated  the  Empire  chair 


144      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

into  which  he  had  thrown  himself  while  speak- 
ing.    "  I  can't  believe  it." 

"  Hilda  wrote  to  me  herself  that  she  and  Dr. 
Cashel  were  married  quietly  in  Paris  two  months 
ago,"  said  Hope,  speaking  slowly  and  fixing  her 
eyes  on  the  picture  as  she  spoke. 

"  It  beats  the  Dutch  !  "  cried  Charlie,  walking 
excitedly  up  and  down  the  room.  "  To  think  of 
that  girl  getting  him  after  all,"  said  the  young 
man  after  a  couple  of  strides.  "  All  I  can  say 
is  this,  I  'm  deuced  sorry  that  Dr.  Cashel  should 
have  thrown  himself  away  upon  a  woman  who 
has  no  more  heart  than  —  a  stone,"  the  trite 
simile,  apparently  the  only  one  at  hand.  "  Of 
course  she  married  him  for  his  money ;  he  has 
lots,  but  besides  being  rich  he  is  a  capital  phy- 
sician, and  a  splendid  scholar,  and  it  is  a  pity 
he  should  not  have  a  wife  to  appreciate  him." 

"  Hilda  may  be  in  love  with  her  husband," 
said  Hope,  "  she  is  clever  enough  to  appreciate 
a  clever  man.  Her  father  is  rich,  so  that  she 
need  not  marry  for  money." 

"  Mr.  Hauterive  lost  a  great  deal  of  his  for- 
tune during  the  late  war,"  said  Charlie.  "  I  have 
heard  him  say  he  lives  in  Europe  for  economy  ; 
that  it  costs  him  far  less  there  than  it  would  to 
keep  up  a  suitable  establishment  in  America. 
As  Mrs.  Cashel,  the  beautiful  Hilda  can  dress 
and  entertain  to  her  heart's  content,  and  that  is 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          145 

all  she  cares  for.  But  I  am  surprised  that  she 
caught  Dr.  Cashel,  handsome  as  she  is.  Do  you 
know,  Hope,"  said  Charlie,  interrupting  him- 
self, "  it  seems  to  me  that  you  are  just  the  kind 
of  woman  to  attract  such  a  man.  He  was  im- 
mensely taken  with  your  picture." 

"  When  did  he  see  it  ? "  asked  Hope,  busy- 
ing herself  with  the  folds  of  a  curtain  which  re- 
quired all  her  attention  and  hid  her  face. 

"  I  showed  him  a  little  group  in  clay  which  I 
had  roughly  modeled.  A  boy  and  girl  planting 
a  flower  together.  The  girl's  face  is  yours, 
Hope,  taken  from  memory,  and  your  photograph ; 
the  boy's  I  took  from  my  own  phiz.  I  called 
the  group  *  Hope's  Inspiration.'  Dr.  Cashel  said 
such  a  face  as  Hope's  might  inspire  a  man  to  do 
almost  anything.  He  said  if  I  would  put  the 
group  in  marble  he  would  give  me  anything  I 
might  ask  for  it." 

"  And  yet,"  thought  Hope,  "  he  married 
Hilda."  But  her  cheek  flushed  as  she  listened 
to  the  words  he  had  said  of  her  face. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  quiet  little  breakfast  on  board  of  the 
yacht  proved  so  pleasant  to  all  concerned  that 
it  was  soon  followed  by  a  dinner  thereon,  limited 


146      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

to  the  four  persons  prescribed  by  the  pretty 
widow's  bereaved  condition. 

Fred  Fisher  was  an  adept  in  the  art  of  enter- 
taining; and  the  well-appointed  table  to  which 
he  led  his  guests  in  the  cabin,  furnished  with  all 
the  luxury  and  comfort  which  characterized 
the  Sprite,  the  capital  cuisine,  and  lively  con- 
versation interluded  with  music,  the  charming 
row  from  the  yacht  back  to  Newport,  all  con- 
spired to  send  the  fair  guests  home  in  the  best 
of  spirits,  and  in  perfect  contentment  with  them- 
selves and  all  mankind. 

"  Fred  Fisher  is  the  best  fellow  in  the  world," 
said  Charlie,  as  he  sat  with  Hope  a  few  days 
after  the  dinner,  discussing  it  and  their  host. 
"  But  he 's  the  most  blase  man  I  ever  saw.  It 
really  makes  me  sorry  to  see  a  man  who  has 
everything  in  his  favor  enjoy  life  so  little. 
Wearied  of  everything  and  barely  thirty  !  " 

*'  I  suppose  he  has  had  too  much  too  soon," 
answered  Hope.  "  He  certainly  is  a  contrast  to 
you,  Charlie.  You  seem  to  take  as  much  pride 
in  the  yacht  as  if  it  belonged  to  you.  You  show 
far  more  interest  in  it  than  the  owner  does." 

41 1  ought  to  take  an  interest  in  her,  since  she 
came  to  America  solely  on  my  account,"  said 
Charlie.  "  Fisher  was  thinking  of  selling  the 
Sprite  to  an  Englishman  who  had  taken  a 
great  fancy  to  her.  He  made  Fred  an  offer  for 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          147 

the  yacht  one  day  in  Rome,  when  we  were  all 
dining  together.  Just  after  dinner,  while  Fisher 
was  ruminating  and  smoking  over  the  proposi- 
tion, I  happened  to  say  how  much  I  wanted  to 
take  a  look  at  old  Newport.  '  By  Jove !  and  so 
you  shall,'  exclaimed  Fisher;  'it  is  really  re- 
freshing to  meet  a  man  who  wants  to  see  any- 
body, anywhere ;  for  I  know,  Fresh '  (he  often 
calls  me  that  from  my  enjoyable  nature,  you 
see)  '  means  a  Newport  girl  when  he  talks  about 
seeing  Newport ; '  and  then  he  said  it  would 
afford  him  a  new  sensation  if  I  would  run  across 
in  the  yacht  with  him  before  he  sold  her.  Of 
course  I  was  quite  too  amiable  to  refuse." 

"  Why  does  not  Mr.  Fisher  marry  ? "  said 
Hope.  "  It  might  give  him  a  new  interest  in 
life.  He  surely  could  find  some  one  to  like  him 
for  himself ;  he  is  very  agreeable,  and  though 
he  is  not  exactly  handsome,  he  has  a  nice  face, 
and  he  seems  very  good  -  hearted.  He  would 
make  a  good  husband,  I  am  sure,  if  he  got  the 
right  sort  of  a  woman  for  a  wife." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  will  ever  have  any  wife," 
replied  Charlie,  "  though  after  Dr.  Cashel's  mar- 
riage even  Fred's  would  not  seem  impossible. 
He  has  a  repugnance  to  doing  anything  he  can- 
not get  out  of.  He  will  hesitate  a  long  time 
before  putting  his  neck  into  a  noose  from  which 
only  death  or  divorce  could  emancipate  him." 


148     STRAY  LEAVES  FROM    NEWPORT. 

"  You  are  flattering  to  matrimony,"  said  Hope 
laughing. 

"  That  is  the  way  in  which  Fisher  looks  upon 
it.  The  fact  is,"  said  Charlie,  "  Fred  has  been 
so  run  after  by  women  for  his  money,  that,  as 
he  is  the  least  conceited  man  I  ever  saw,  he 
never  attributes  his  success  with  the  sex  to  his 
own  personal  merit.  Did  you  notice  the  in- 
different smile  with  which  he  received  your 
sister's  remarks  upon  the  number  of  feminine 
contributions  to  the  fitting  up  of  the  Sprite? 
He  is  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  allude  to  his 
conquests,  but  he  has  had  any  number  of  flirta- 
tions. He  flirts  as  he  plays  poker  or  pool,  to 
find  excitement ;  but  as  he  always  plays  a  win- 
ning game,  —  rich  fellows  who  can  afford  to  lose 
always  win,  —  he  soon  tires  of  both.  Flowers 
mean  nothing  serious  with  Fisher;  he  scatters 
them  profusely ; "  and  Charlie  glanced  as  he 
spoke  towards  a  huge  basket  of  lilies  -  of  -  the 
valley  from  a  Newport  greenhouse  renowned 
all  over  the  United  States  for  this  flower,  from 
the  sale  of  which  the  florist  realizes  a  handsome 
income. 

"  They  mean  quite  as  much  with  Belle  as  they 
do  with  Mr.  Fisher,"  retorted  Hope. 

"You  need  not  bristle  up  so  with  sisterly 
loyalty,"  said  Charlie.  "  I  quite  appreciate  la 
belle  Slavery's  flirtatious  powers ;  I  have  ad- 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          149 

mired  the  manner  in  which  she  keeps  two  affairs 
going  at  the  same  time.  But  I  doubt  if  even 
her  fascinations  could  produce  a  serious  effect 
upon  Fisher.  You  see,"  continued  Charlie, 
"  Fred  has  basked  in  the  light  of  so  many  eyes 
that  he  does  not  find  their  language  such  inter- 
esting reading  as  if  it  were  newer." 

"  It  is  more  attractive  literature  to  his  friend," 
said  Hope  laughing.  "  I  wish,"  she  said,  turn- 
ing to  the  piano  and  running  her  fingers  over 
the  keys,  "  I  wish  I  could  play  the  accompani- 
ment to  some  German  lines  Mrs.  Rose  asked  me 
to  translate  for  her.  The  air  is  so  pretty,  I 
wish  I  could  recall  it.  But  I  cannot,"  and  after 
successive  efforts  her  fingers  dropped  from  the 
piano. 

"  What  are  the  words  ?  "  asked  Charlie  ;  "  sing 
them." 

"  Oh,  the  words  are  nothing  without  the  ac- 
companiment. They  must  be  sung  together  to 
be  effective.  I  will  repeat  them  to  you."  And 
turning  the  music  stool  so  that  she  faced  her 
companion,  Hope  fixed  her  eyes  full  on  his  face 
as  she  repeated  in  her  clear  voice :  — 

"  '  Dost  thou  ask  me  if  I  love  thee  ? 

Read  the  answer  in  these  eyes,  ^ 

Clear  as  shine  the  stars  above  me  ; 
Read  the  truth  without  disguise.'  " 

"  Any  one  might  know  the  White  Cliff  poet 


150       STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

had  written  those  lines,"  said  Charlie,  "  they  are 
so  deucedly  non-committal.  How  is  the  reader 
to  know  if  the  truth  be  favorable  to  him  or 
otherwise?  And  you  don't  throw  any  feeling 
into  your  eyes." 

"  I  did  not  write  the  lines,  Charlie ;  I  only 
translated  them.  If  they  do  not  please  you,  you 
must  get  another  version  from  some  more  ac- 
complished poet.  As  to  my  eyes,  they  have  had 
so  much  of  the  serious  business  of  life  to  look 
after  that  they  have  forgotten  how  to  look  sen- 
timental, if  they  ever  knew  how.  Perhaps  the 
last  line  may  suit  you  better  :  — 

"  '  To  thy  heart,  my  heart  replies.'  " 

Suddenly  the  mock  expression  of  feeling  dis- 
appeared from  Hope's  face,  and  she  rose  from 
her  seat  in  confusion,  for  the  bright  flame  which 
flashed  from  the  fire  through  the  twilight  re- 
vealed the  figure  of  a  man  standing  in  the  door- 
way. 

"  Dr.  Cashel !  "  exclaimed  Charlie,  springing 
forward  as  the  new-comer  advanced  to  meet 
Hope's  confused  welcome.  "  Where  did  you 
come  from  ?  \Ve  did  not  hear  you  open  the 
door,  did  we,  Hope?" 

"You  were  too  agreeably  occupied,"  he  an- 
swered with  a  smile,  forestalling  his  hostess' 
reply,  as  he  seated  himself  in  response  to  the 
motion  she  made.  "I  rang  twice  and  no  one 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.          151 

came,  so  I  opened  the  door  and  walked  in.  I 
must  leave  in  the  nine  o'clock  boat  for  New 
York,"  he  added,  as  if  in  apology  for  his  want 
of  ceremony.  "I  came  to  ask  you  for  Mrs. 
Rose's  address." 

"  She  is  in  Florida,"  answered  Hope,  who  had 
in  a  measure  recovered  her  composure. 

"  So  my  sister  wrote  me,  but  Florida  is  an  in- 
definite direction  by  which  to  find  any  one." 
"  Shall  you  go  to  Florida  ?  "  asked  Hope. 
"  Yes ;    I  am   alarmed  about  Nina.     As  her 
guardian  I  am  bound  to  look  after  her  health  as 
well  as  her  property." 

Here  Charlie,  who  had  been  moving  about  the 
room  in  his  usual  restless  manner,  broke  in  with, 
"  We  have  not  yet  congratulated   you,  doctor. 
Did  you  bring  your  wife  with  you  ?  " 
"  My  wife  !     I  have  no  wife." 
"  There,  I  knew  it !  "  ejaculated  Charlie,  turn- 
ing to  Hope,  upon  whose  lips  the  half-formed 
sentence  died  away  as  she  looked   at   the  doc- 
tor.    "  I  knew  it  must  be  a  mistake,"  continued 
Charlie. 

"  It  certainly  is  a  mistake,"  was  the  emphatic 
response.  "  I  never  asked  but  one  woman  to 
marry  me  and  she  refused.  I  shall  never  ask 
another." 

Charlie's  quick  ears  caught  the  low  tone  in 
which  the  last  words  were  said,  and  his  bright 


152      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

eyes  noted  the  conscious  blush  which  they 
brought  to  Hope's  face,  and  with  a  significant 
smile  he  asked,  "  Hope,  don't  you  think  Dr. 
Cashel  could  play  the  accompaniment  to  your 
lines,  and  then  you  might  sing  them  with  ex- 
pression ?  " 

She  took  no  notice  of  the  young  man's  remark 
except  to  color  still  more  deeply,  as  she  said, 
"  But  Hilda  wrote  "— 

"  That  she  had  married  me  ? "  interrupted 
Dr.  Cashel.  "  I  was  at  her  wedding,  but  I  was 
not  the  bridegroom ;  surely  she  told  you  his 
name  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  get  the  faire  party  which  Hilda 
wrote  me  she  had  mailed,"  answered  Hope; 
"  and  in  her  last  letter  she  only  wrote  *  we  were 
married  quietly.' " 

"  And  you  thought  I  was  part  of  the  we," 
said  Dr.  Cashel  laughing.  "  I  think  the  bride- 
groom was  entitled  to  his  full  name.  It  is  a 
handsome  one,  Francis  Middleton  Ravenal.  But 
how  like  her  to  consider  the  groom  the  least  im- 
portant part  of  the  affair!  She  could  replace 
him,  but  not  the  superb  lace  flounce  she  wore 
at  her  wedding.  A  present  from  a  Monsignore 
in  Rome,  where  she  was  converted  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  faith." 

"  Indeed  !  I  had  not  known  it.  Is  her  hus- 
band also  a  Roman  Catholic  ?  "  asked  Hope. 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.         153 

"  I  think  his  religion  consists  of  his  worship 
of  his  beautiful  bride.  I  never  saw  greater  in- 
fatuation. And  she  treats  him,  —  well,  very 
much  as  she  does  her  dogs,  when  they  obey  her. 
Ra venal  seems  quite  happy  in  his  thralldom,  and 
he  suits  his  wife,  so  she  is  kind  to  him  in  her 
way." 

" Is  he  rich?  "  asked  Charlie. 

"  What  a  thoroughly  American  question ! 
You,"  he  said,  turning  to  Hope,  "  will  ask  if  he 
is  handsome ;  that  is  a  woman's  question." 

"Is  he?" 

"  Ravenal  is  a  gentleman  in  manners  and  ap- 
pearance, but  not,  to  my  mind,  handsome.  He 
is  exceedingly  amiable,  not  brilliant,  but  with 
fair  abilities  and  a  moderate  fortune." 

"  Why  did  she  marry  him,  I  wonder  ?  Hilda 
was  always  so  ambitious,  and  she  has  refused 
such  brilliant  offers,"  said  Hope,  half  to  herself. 

"  Why  do  women  every  day  marry  men  one 
would  never  suppose  they  would  ?  Woman  is  a 
riddle  hard  to  read.  She  is  often  a  contradic- 
tion to  herself." 

"That's  a  fact!"  exclaimed  Charlie.  "I 
think  I  am  decidedly  de  trop,  Hope,"  he  said 
meaningly,  "  you  and  Dr.  Cashel  must  have  so 
much  to  talk  over.  I  will  take  myself  off,  and 
give  another  fellow  a  chance.  I  will  see  you 
later,  doctor.  By  the  way,  in  case  you  should 


154      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM.  NEWPORT. 

miss  the  nine  o'clock  boat  we  can  accommodate 
you  on  board  the  Sprite.  Good -by,  Hope." 
As  he  said  the  last  words  he  held  her  hand  for 
a  few  moments,  then  dropping  it  and  giving  the 
young  girl  an  expressive  glance  he  opened  the 
window  and  jumped  out  of  it  to  the  piazza. 
Closing  the  sash,  Charlie  stood  an  instant  on  the 
outside,  contemplating  the  pair  within,  who  were 
apparently  quite  oblivious  of  his  neighborhood. 
Dr.  Cashel  had  taken  his  place  at  the  piano,  and 
Hope  stood  by  him.  Soon  the  notes  of  a  rich 
voice  rang  out  with  the  accompaniment  played 
by  a  skillful  hand.  "  They  are  no  riddle  to  each 
other,"  thought  Charlie,  as  he  stood  in  the  road 
listening.  "  Hope  has  found  the  feeling  the 
song  requires." 

"  '  To  thy  heart,  my  heart  replies,'  " 

sang  Hope.  Soon  the  accompaniment  on  the 
piano  ceased,  and  the  musician's  arm  found  its 
way  around  the  singer's  waist. 

"  Is  your  heart's  action  what  it  should  be  ?  " 
he  asked.  She  looked  up  archly  into  the  doc- 
tor's face. 

"  It  is  all  right  now,"  he  continued  gravely, 
feeling  her  pulse.  "  My  diagnosis  was  quite 
correct,  we  were  both  suffering  from  the  same 
trouble,  sympathetic  affection  of  the  heart.  It 
has  yielded  to  proper  treatment,  —  similia  simi- 
libus  curantur." 


SENTIMENT  AND  SEAWEED.  155 

The  nine  o'clock  boat  for  New  York  left  the 
wharf  that  evening  without  one  of  its  intended 
passengers,  who  was  sitting  in  the  flickering  fire- 
light of  the  drawing-room  at  White  Cliff,  beside 
the  "  only  woman  he  had  ever  asked  to  marry 
him."  For  those  two  had  began  the  new  life 
which  Dante  describes  so  exquisitely  in  his 
Divina  Commedia.  But  happier  far  than  the 
Italian  poet  and  his  Beatrice,  the  lovers  at 
White  Cliff  were  destined  to  live  together  in 
that  marriage  of  the  heart  of  which  many  dream, 
but  which  so  few  realize ;  that  marriage  of 
mutual  trust  and  sympathies  which  time  only 
makes  more  enduring.  "  Those  whom  God  hath 
joined,  no  man  can  put  asunder."  Even  Death 
is  powerless  to  dissolve  the  tie,  for  true  love,  like 
the  spirit  of  mortal,  is  immortal. 


MY  WIFE  — WHERE  IS  SHE? 

A   STORY   OF  NEWPORT  MIDDY-EVIL  LIFE. 

IT  was  the  closing  month  of  the  academic 
year  of  the  Naval  Academy,  then  stationed  at 
Newport,  but  soon,  alas  for  fair  Rhody,  to  be 
removed  to  another  soil.  Yes !  the  fiat  had  gone 
forth  that  the  buttons,  cannon,  and  bayonets, 
glistening  in  the  sun,  around  the  "  Old  Stone 
Mill,"  the  drills  and  the  music,  which  had  so 
fascinated  young  Newport,  and  even  attracted 
the  admiration  of  the  maturer  residents  of  the 
old  historic  town,  and  kept  it  as  wide  awake  in 
the  winter  and  autumn  as  did  the  summer 
butterflies  in  the  fashionable  season,  should  all 
be  returned  to  Annapolis,  from  whence  four  years 
previous  they  had  come  in  full  force  to  rouse 
quiet,  lethargic  Newport  from  its  wintry  sleep. 
Frequent  and  bitter  were  the  anathemas  launched 
at  the  "  powers  that  were,"  by  pretty  pouting 
lips,  and  echoed  by  the  mediaeval  beaux,  who 
hated  to  go,  quite  as  much  as  their  charming 
partners  at  hops  and  along  the  regulation  bit  of 
pavement  hated  to  lose  them.  On  the  evening 


MY  WIFE— WHERE  IS  SHE?  157 

when  this  story  commences,  a  farewell  "  tea " 
was  being  given  in  an  old-fashioned  family  man- 
sion which  held  two  of  the  objects  of  midship- 
men's devotion  —  sisters,  and  rival  beauties. 
On  this  evening  was  to  be  decided  a  point  which 
had  for  some  time  divided  the  opinion  of  the 
graduating  class  and  of  those  to  whom  they  had 
submitted  the  question :  namely,  to  which  one 
of  Newport's  beautiful  daughters  should  the 
prize  of  grace  and  beauty  be  accorded?  No 
Paris  sufficiently  unbiased  by  personal  feeling 
could  be  found  to  decide  the  point ;  therefore  it 
was  resolved  to  put  it  to  the  vote,  after  the 
sumptuous  provision  of  a  genuine  Newport 
"tea"  had  been  duly  discussed  and  justice  done 
to  its  buttered  waffles.  Meanwhile  the  prize, 
a  lovely  bouquet  of  rosebuds,  placed  in  a  hand- 
some vase,  occupied  the  post  of  honor  in  the 
centre  of  the  tea  table,  in  the  midst  of  a  wealth 
of  Mayflower  china  and  antique  silver,  which 
graced  this  hospitable  board. 

What  a  running  fire  of  jest  and  flirtation 
passed  round  with  the  cakes  may  easily  be  im- 
agined, when  six  beautiful  girls,  and  an  equal 
number  of  young  fellows  full  of  sentiment  and 
fun,  and  kindly  provided  for  by  "  Uncle  Sam," 
kept  the  ball  a-rolling. 

Amid  laughter  succeeded  by  sudden  silence, 
and  rapt  attention,  in  which  the  elders  of  the 


158       STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

party  shared,  as  the  votes  were  counted,  the 
momentous  question  was  decided.  The  defeated 
fair  ones  took  their  defeat  according  to  their 
several  tempers,  and  stage-whispering  and  shrug- 
ging of  shoulders  on  the  one  side,  with  congrat- 
ulations and  expressions  of  satisfaction  on  the 
other,  marked  the  party  feeling  of  respective 
adherents  and  admirers.  The  successful  beauty 
smilingly,  quietly,  with  the  easy  grace  of  one 
whose  motto  of  nil  admirari  was  carried  out  in 
all  her  actions,  received  her  bouquet,  and  bowed 
her  acknowledgments  to  the  over-head-and-ears- 
in-love  midshipman  who  hastened  to  present  her 
with  the  tribute  to  her  superior  charms. 

After  this  came  a  scattering  into  nooks  and 
corners  of  the  young  people;  the  arrival  of 
other  guests  ;  the  gradual  filling  up  of  the  broad 
window-seats,  conveniently  large  enough  for  two, 
and  of  the  claw-footed  arm-chairs,  whose  respec- 
tably old  brocade  backs  and  seats  were  speedily 
hidden  beneath  the  gay,  youthful  attire  of  the 
present  fashion.  From  the  piazza,  the  sound  of 
laughter,  bits  of  song,  banjo  playing,  mixed  with 
the  low  murmur  of  suppressed  voices,  was  blown 
in  through  the  open  windows  by  the  balmy, 
gentle  breath  of  this  lovely  June  evening.  In 
a  recess  of  the  parlor,  oblivious  to  the  rest  of  the 
room,  a  couple  looking  into  each  other's  eyes 
are  ruthlessly  brought  back  from  dreamland  by 


MY  WIFE— WHERE  IS  SHE  1          159 

the  energetic,  lively  voice  and  action  of  a  pro- 
moter of  that  bane  to  real  society  — jeux  inno- 
cents. "  Come !  you  two  have  sat  here  long 
enough ;  you  must  make  yourselves  useful  and 
act  a  charade." 

The  acknowledged  "  swell "  of  the  graduating 
class  mentally  sends  charades  and  their  getters- 
up  to  perdition,  and  is  about  civilly  to  decline 
leaving  his  present  position,  when  his  fair  part- 
ner, in  a  spirit  of  levity  and  coquetry  quite  un- 
pardonable after  all  that  has  just  been  said  and 
looked,  springs  from  her  seat,  declares  herself 
ready  to  be  made  of  use,  accepts  gracefully  the 
arm  of  a  middy  whom  she  generally  snubs,  and 
goes  off  with  him  to  become  a  mysterious  sylla- 
ble, to  be  guessed  at  by  the  audience,  at  that 
moment  being  arranged  in  the  adjoining  room. 

"  Now,  you  must  be  introduced  to  a  very  nice 
girl,  a  stranger,  who  is  here  with  her  papa.  She 
is  very  shy ;  you  must  talk  to  her  and  amuse 
her  ;  "  dribbled  on  the  amiable,  tactless  hostess, 
who  would  have  "  had  fits  "  given  her  by  her  own 
daughters  had  they  seen  her  breaking  a  flirtation 
in  full  sail.  Disgusted  with  his  hostess,  with  his 
late  partner  for  leaving  him,  and  with  himself, 
Crichton  sullenly  allows  himself  to  be  led  up  to 
a  pale,  dark  girl  —  "a  guy,"  as  his  fastidious 
taste  pronounced  her.  "  Where  the  deuce  did 
she  ever  get  such  clothes  ?  "  he  said  to  himself, 


160       STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

as  he  marked  with  mental  disapproval  the  ill- 
fitting  costume  of  just  the  last  color  and  make 
to  suit  the  complexion  and  form  of  the  wearer. 
"  Miss  Castine  !  "  he  again  soliloquized  ;  "  what 
a  name  for  a  girl !  She  might  as  well  be  called 
Boston  or  New  York."  Our  hero  was  not  strong 
in  the  history  of  the  early  settlement  of  Maine, 
had  probably  never  heard  of  Baron  de  Castine, 
knew  nothing  of  the  pride  with  which  this  name 
had  been  preserved,  with  other  relics  in  the 
family  of  this,  to  him,  exceedingly  uninteresting 
party.  They  sat  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes 
after  their  hostess  had  left  them  —  "  to  make  a 
nuisance  of  herself  elsewhere,"  thought  Crich- 
ton,  as  he  found  himself  with  this  strange  girl, 
named  from  a  town  in  Maine,  stranded  on  the 
barren  shore  of  enforced  companionship,  with 
no  topics  or  interests  in  common.  He  looked 
about  hopelessly  for  a  stray  fellow  to  whom  he 
might  pass  this  unlucky  card,  which,  as  if  he 
were  playing  the  game  of  "  Old  Maid,"  had 
slipped  into  his  hand.  But  there  was  no  one 
in  sight.  With  too  much  savoir  faire  to  sit 
long  in  stupid  silence,  cross  as  he  might  feel, 
he  started  a  platitude,  met  with  a  monosyllabic 
reply,  then  tried  another,  with  the  same  success. 
It  was  up-hill  work,  with  one  side  doing  all  the 
talking.  Crichton  had  no  mind  to  be  "  stuck  " 
with  this  silent  companion  for  the  rest  of  the 


MY  WIFE— WHERE  IS  SHE1  161 

evening.  He  proposed  a  stroll  through  the 
rooms  —  not  on  the  piazza ;  oh,  no !  then  he 
would  be  sure  to  be  stuck.  They  would  watch 
the  charade ;  there  was  hope  of  some  one  or 
something  turning  up  afterward.  They  took 
their  places,  looked  at  the  acting,  and  made 
guesses  at  the  word.  Yes,  the  shy  girl  had 
found  her  tongue  at  last,  and  yielding,  as  all 
women  did,  to  the  fascination  of  Crichton's  look 
and  tone,  she  surprised  even  herself  with  the 
ease  and  pleasure  she  took  in  talking  with  him. 
Half  the  intense  expression  he  threw  into  his 
glance,  half  the  amount  of  feeling  his  voice  as- 
sumed, half  the  flattering  interest  of  his  man- 
ner would  have  quite  "  done  "  for  this  poor  little 
shy,  Maine  girl,  who  had  never  before  conversed 
with  a  handsome  midshipman,  and  thought  it 
quite  heavenly  to  be  just  where  she  was. 
Crichton  could  never  resist  trying  his  fascina- 
tions on  every  woman  with  whom  he  happened 
to  be  thrown  ;  it  was  second  nature  to  him,  and 
the  sight  of  his  late  partner  flirting  desperately 
on  the  stage  with  another  fellow  spurred  him  on 
to  show  her  his  indifference  —  he  sat  directly  in 
front  of  her.  Men,  and  especially  young  men, 
are  apt  to  overact  this  part,  and  Crichton  was 
no  exception  to  the  rule.  He  flirted  unmerci- 
fully with  his  poor  little  victim,  as  regardless  of 
the  effect  upon  her  as  if  he  were  a  small  boy 


162      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

experimenting  on  a  poor  little  frog.  Again  the 
eye  of  the  busy  beater-up-of-recruits  for  the  cha- 
rade fell  upon  Crichton.  She  leaned  over  a 
couple  next  to  him,  and  said  in  a  stage  whisper : 
"Come  and  help  me  with  the  last  syllable." 
"  Will  you  come  ?  "  said,  rather  than  asked 
Crichton.  Before  the  blushing,  happy  girl  could 
answer  he  had  assisted  her  to  rise,  and  to  the 
envy  and  astonishment  of  the  girls  around,  who 
knew  his  fastidious  taste  for  beauty  and  style,  he 
was  seen  almost  tenderly  offering  his  arm  to  the 
plain,  badly-dressed  stranger. 

"You  two  are  to  be  married  —  that  is,  pre- 
tend to  be,"  said  Crichton's  beauty  of  the  recess, 
as  the  stage  manager  threw  an  antique  lace  veil 
over  the  head  of  the  Maine  young  woman,  and 
hastily  arranged  the  rest  of  the  bridal  costume. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  he  replied,  quietly,  in  answer 
more  to  the  mocking  expression  of  the  speaker 
than  to  her  words.  As  Miss  Castine  drew  back 
in  alarm  when  she  understood  the  part  she  was 
to  play,  and  the  improvised  clergyman,  a  naval 
officer,  and  Crichton  took  their  places,  he  said 
in  pleading  tones  :  "  Won't  you  have  me,  Miss 
Castine,  in  fun  —  only  in  fun  —  unfortunately  ?  " 
The  last  word  was  said  in  a  voice  sufficiently  low 
to  drop  just  where  he  meant  it  should,  —  the 
wicked  flirt,  and  it  sent  a  color  to  her  cheek  and 
a  light  to  her  eye  which  quite  transformed  the 


MY  WIFE— WHERE  IS  SHE?  163 

"  Maine  girl,"  as  she  looked  up  into  his  face 
with  all  the  trustfulness  of  a  young,  unworldly 
nature.  Did  he  feel  no  pang  of  conscience  as 
he  saw  the  mischief  he  was  doing?  Alas!  he 
only  thought,  with  the  satisfaction  of  a  modern 
Pygmalion  endowing  his  statue  with  life:  "By 
Jove !  she  is  almost  pretty,  after  all,  this  Maine 
girl ;  she  has  fine  eyes,  and  with  a  little  train- 
ing "  —  The  rest  of  his  mental  sentence  was 
lost  in  the  necessity  of  their  taking  part  in  the 
mock  ceremony  —  the  charade  wedding.  As  he 
took  her  hand  he  pressed  it,  and  sent  another 
delicious  thrill  to  her  heart.  Then  came  con- 
gratulations upon  the  success  of  the  charade, 
and  then  the  music  struck  up  a  waltz.  The 
room  was  cleared  for  dancing. 

"  May  I  have  the  pleasure  ?  "  asked  Crichton, 
with  that  dangerously  deferential  manner  which 
was  one  of  his  greatest  charms  with  women. 

"  I  don't  dance  round  dances."  It  was  said 
sadly,  slowly,  for  she  felt  that  her  new-found 
happiness  was  escaping  her.  Of  course  he 
would  leave  her  to  find  a  partner. 

"  Excuse  me,  I  will  see  you  later." 

He  turned,  caught  the  smile  of  the  fair  one 
with  the  golden  locks,  and  the  next  moment  they 
were  floating  off  in  the  poetry  of  motion,  and 
for  the  remainder  of  the  evening. 


164      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 


n. 

IT  was  very  charming  on  the  Bruhl  Terrace 
in  Dresden,  one  warm  evening  late  in  Septem- 
ber, the  year  preceding  the  breaking  out  of  the 
Franco-German  War.  The  "  Garde  Reiters,"  in 
their  becoming  sky  blue  and  silver,  stood  or  sat 
about,  mingled  with  officers  in  the  less  striking 
uniforms  of  other  corps,  all  chatting,  smoking, 
drinking  beer  or  coffee,  or  paying  their  court  to 
the  Teutonic,  English,  or  American  Frauleins, 
who,  with  their  pater  or  mater  familias,  were 
gathered  at  little  tables,  the  music  of  the  band 
serving  as  an  accompaniment  to  conversation,  at 
least  no  hindrance,  and  sometimes  a  convenient 
cover,  to  the  "  old,  old  story,"  told  in  so  many 
tongues,  —  the  tale  which  allows  no  copyright, 
international  or  otherwise,  and  is  understood  by 
the  youth  of  all  nations. 

Lounging  against  the  iron  railing,  paying 
little  attention  to  the  company,  or  to  the  music, 
are  two  young  men,  en  civile,  and  consequently 
not  Germans,  since  all  of  that  nation  at  their 
age  are  obliged  in  that  military  country  to  live 
in  uniform. 

"  So  you  have  left  the  Navy,  Clay  ?  Tell  me 
something  of  yourself  since  we  parted.  I  went 
to  China,  you  know,  immediately  after  I  grad- 


MY  WIFE—  WHERE  IS  SHE?  165 

uated,  and  quite  lost  sight  of  you  and  the  others 
of  our  set.  I  came  out  in  the  Wabash,  which  is 
at  anchor  off  Spezzia,  in  the  Mediterranean. 
I  got  a  fortnight's  leave  to  run  on  here  to  the 
wedding  of  Nina  Clavering —  you  remember  the 
Claverings  at  Newport?  one  of  the  pleasantest 
houses  for  the  midshipmen.  It  seems  two  of 
them  married  into  the  Army,  and  the  third, 
Nina,  is  to  marry  Jack  Edwards  next  week.  I 
am  to  be  best  man.  Have  you  called  on  the 
Claverings?" 

"  No,  I  am  here  for  study,  and  not  for  society. 
I  left  the  Navy  three  years  ago  —  I  never  could 
stand  the  sea  ;  life  was  a  burden  to  me  on  board 
ship.  To  be  an  Admiral,  I  would  not  go 
through  the  miseries  of  seasickness.  Since  I 
resigned,  I  have  buckled  down  to  German  and 
art.  I  paint,  read,  and  talk  with  the  natives, 
avoid  my  own  countrymen  and  women  as  much 
as  possible,  and  live  a  Bohemian  life.  The  only 
exception  I  have  made  was  the  salon  of  a  Rus- 
sian lady,  whose  husband  is  in  the  diplomatic 
corps.  I  first  met  the  family  at  Teplitz  last 
year,  where  they  were  taking  the  cure.  I  went 
there  to  sketch :  the  views  are  charming.  One 
day  I  encountered  the  Tourchikoff  boys  and 
their  governess  at  Prince  Clary's  model  farm, 
which  is  thrown  open  to  visitors.  My  sketches 
attracted  the  children's  attention,  we  scraped 


166      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

acquaintance,  the  rest  followed,  and  I  was  soon 
admitted  to  the  Tourchikoff  circle  as  a  friend  of 
the  family.  They  are  charming  people,  Crich- 
ton,  simple,  unaffected,  well-bred,  and  clever.  It 
was  delightful  to  have  such  a  house  to  drop  into, 
for,  say  what  you  like,  Europe  is  very  interest- 
ing ;  but  one  does  get  lonely  sometimes,  and  long 
for  a  cup  of  tea  from  a  friendly  hand,  at  least 
I  did  before  I  knew  the  Tourchikoffs,  and  "  — 
with  a  sigh,  "  I  miss  them  terribly  now  they  are 
gone." 

"  So  they  are  gone  away  from  Dresden,  are 
they?" 

"  Yes,  they  left  for  Russia  a  week  ago,  all  but 
the  governess,  and  she,  —  there  is  a  strange  ro- 
mance there,  Crichton." 

"  Ah,  indeed !  "  replied  the  other  smilingly. 
"  I  thought  there  might  be  an  idyl  connected 
with  Teplitz  rambles  and  sketches." 

"  Indeed,  you  are  quite  mistaken.  The  poor 
girl  is  persecuted  by  a  wretched  fellow,  whom 
it  seems  in  an  ill-advised  moment  she  married. 
She  was  early  left  an  orphan.  Her  father, 
shortly  before  his  death,  fell,  it  appears,  into 
the  toils  of  a  designing  female.  He  was  one 
of  your  clever  scientists,  who  knew  everything 
except  human  nature ;  so  this  woman  got  hold 
of  him,  married  him,  and  contrived  to  get  a  will 
made  in  her  favor,  all  the  time  pretending  great 


MY  WIFE— WHERE  IS  SHE?  167 

affection  for  the  '  sweet  girl,  his  daughter.' 
Once  in  possession  of  the  fortune,  she  made  life 
wretched  to  the  poor  child,  who  was  soon  per- 
suaded, goaded  rather,  by  taunts  and  the  sense 
of  dependence,  into  marrying  as  an  alternative 
to  suicide.  The  fellow  worked  upon  her  feel- 
ings of  patriotism.  It  seems  he  had  been 
wounded  in  the  war,  on  the  Union  side.  He  per- 
suaded her  that  her  life,  which  was  very  miser- 
able to  her,  could  be  of  use  to  him.  You  know 
there  are  such  sacrificing  natures.  I  fancy  she 
must  have  had  some  sort  of  romance  herself 
before,  to  make  her  heart  callous  to  sentiment. 
Well,  at  any  rate,  two  years  ago  she  married 
him  in  Paris ;  she  was  there  with  her  step-mother. 
They  were  married  at  the  American  Legation, 
both  being  Americans.  Perhaps  our  great  au- 
thority on  international  law  might  find  some 
flaw  in  the  marriage ;  he  declares  that  very 
many  marriages  contracted  in  Europe  are  not 
legal.  It  would  be  a  mercy  to  this  poor  woman 
if  he  could  dissolve  hers." 

"  In  which  case  I  think  I  know  a  young  man 
who  would  stand  ready  to  induce  the  lady  to 
contract  another,  with  all  the  formalities,"  said 
Crichton,  laughing. 

"  No,  you  are  quite  wrong,"  replied  his  com- 
panion. "My  share  in  the  matter,  for  I  have 
had  something  to  do  with  it,  is  purely  disinter- 


168      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

ested.  I  have  not  even  the  satisfaction  of  being 
in  love  with  a  woman  for  whom  I  came  near 
getting  my  head  broken." 

"  How  so  ?  This  is  becoming  very  interesting. 
A  quiet,  studious  fellow  like  you,  Clay,  doing 
the  Don  Quixote,  —  you  who  contrived  to  get 
through  the  Naval  Academy  without  any  serious 
damage  to  heart  or  limb." 

"  Or  doing  any  serious  damage  to  other 
hearts,  as  you  did,  Crichton,"  resumed  Clay, 
looking  admiringly  at  his  friend's  Apollo-like 
form  and  figure.  "The  Admirable  Crichton 
carried  all  before  him,  and  does  still,  I  fancy." 

The  other  only  smiled,  and  Clay  continued : 
"  It  appears  that  the  marriage  turned  out  a  per- 
fect hell,  the  husband  a  brute ;  the  worst  kind 
of  one,  for  he  was  terribly  —  that  is  the  only 
word  for  it  —  in  love ;  jealous  if  she  looked  at 
a  man  or  even  a  woman.  He  drank,  he  swore  ; 
he  was  in  fact  so  unbearable  that  his  wife  took 
the  law  in  her  own  hands  and  left  him.  A 
friend  procured  her  the  place  of  governess  with 
Madame  de  Tourchikoff,  who,  like  the  Czar 
Nicholas,  wished  'the  American  language  as 
spoken  purely  and  correctly,  to  be  taught  her 
children.'  As  Miss  Arthur,  this  heroine  of  ro- 
mance had  lived  quietly,  almost  happily,  for 
some  time.  She  adored  Madame  de  Tourchikoff, 
who  sought  in  every  way  to  make  her  forget  the 


MY  WIFE— WHERE  IS  SHE?  169 

past  and  enjoy  the  present.  She  was  devoted 
to  the  children,  and  they  to  her.  Your  humble 
servant  —  don't  smile  with  your  sentimental 
eyes,  Crichton  —  was  platonically  glad  to  sing 
duets  with  her,  and  in  a  word,  everything  was 
most  harmonious  in  our  little  circle,  when  one 
day,  about  a  month  ago,  the  wretch  appeared  in 
Teplitz,  where  we  all  were.  He  rushed  like  a 
maniac  into  the  Tourchikoff  apartment  and  de- 
manded '  my  wife.'  Miss  Arthur,  at  the  sound 
of  his  voice  in  altercation  with  the  servant  in 
the  hall,  had  fled  from  the  room.  General  Tour- 
chikoff was  absent  in  Russia,  Madame  was  quite 
alone ;  but  she  showed  herself  equal  to  the  oc- 
casion. She  speaks  English  fluently,  and  she 
plainly  assured  the  soi-disant  husband  that  the 
lady  he  sought  was  under  her  protection  and 
should  remain  there  ;  that  whatever  claim  he 
might  have  upon  her  governess,  he  had  no  right 
in  her  apartment.  At  this  juncture  I  appeared 
and  the  man  turned  upon  me.  Fortunately  I 
was  prepared  for  him,  and  with  the  assistance  of 
Gottlieb,  the  servant,  quietly  ejected  him.  In 
Germany  you  may  shake,  or  spit  upon  a  man, 
but  if  you  strike  him,  you  are  liable  to  an  action. 
We  marched  him  down  stairs  without  injury. 

"  Madame  de  Tourchikoff,  Miss  Arthur,  and 
I  sat  long  into  the  small  hours,  in  earnest  con- 
clave, and  many  were  the  plans  we  devised  for 


170      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

getting  Miss  Arthur  —  I  hate  to  call  her  by  the 
wretch's  name  —  out  of  the  reach  of  persecu- 
tion while  a  divorce  was  being  arranged,  for 
brutal  treatment  is  ample  cause  for  one. 

"  The  next  day  I  bought  a  pistol  and  carried 
it.  The  man  was  patrolling  the  street  in  front 
of  the  Tourchikoff  house.  There  I  found  all 
dismay,  Miss  Arthur  had  gone,  no  one  knew 
whither.  She  had  left  a  note  telling  Madame 
de  Tourchikoff  that  when  her  own  plans  were 
settled,  she  would  write,  but  that  she  begged  her 
to  make  no  inquiries;  that  she  could  not  bear 
to  bring  trouble  and  anxiety  to  one  who  had 
been  so  kind  to  her,  etc.  Madame  de  Tour- 
chikoff and  the  children  left  the  next  day  for 
Russia,  leaving  secretly,  that  the  husband  in 
search  of  a  wife  might  not  follow  them.  That 
was  a  fortnight  ago,  perhaps  he  is  still  watch- 
ing the  house." 

"  A  singular  story,  truly,"  said  Crichton ; 
"and  you  have  never  heard  what  became  of 
your  heroine  ?  " 

"  Never ;  and  since  the  Tourchikoffa  left  I 
have  lost  all  trace.  They  kindly  invited  me  to 
visit  them  in  Russia.  Perhaps  I  may  do  so,  I 
am  getting  tired  of  Dresden." 

"  Depend  upon  it  your  heroine  will  turn  up 
yet,  Clay.  I  feel  sure  that  she  is  your  fate ; 
something  will  happen  to  the  husband,  and  you 


MY  WIFE—  WHERE  IS  SHE?  171 

will  come  on  board  a  United  States  man-of-war 
and  be  married.  That  will  be  quite  legal.  By 
Jove,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  wonder  if  I  am  mar- 
ried !  Do  you  remember,  Clay,  the  evening  we 
voted  for  the  prize  of  beauty  at  Newport,  I  was 
married  in  a  charade,  to  a  girl  from  Maine? 
Captain  Lovelace  married  us.  An  officer  in  the 
United  States  service  has  a  right  to  perform  the 
ceremony.  It  would  be  rather  awkward  if  that 
should  turn  out  a  bond  fide  marriage  after  all. 
My  wife  —  where  is  she  ?  I  wonder." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  will  do  the  Enoch 
Arden,  Crichton,  and  disturb  her  if  she  has 
found  a  husband  during  your  absence." 

"  No,"  he  answered ;  "  she  has,  no  doubt, 
married  some  Maine  lawyer.  Perhaps  he  may 
turn  up  in  the  Senate,  or  on  a  foreign  mission, 
who  knows.  I  may  meet  my  wife  yet.  I  won- 
der if  we  should  recognize  each  other  —  Miss 
Castine  —  it 's  dangerous  all  the  same,  marrying 
in  fun :  many  a  jest  is  earnest."  Then  taking 
out  his  watch,  he  said,  "  Come,  let  's  go  to  the 
theatre,  we  are  in  time  for  an  act,  at  least,  of 
'Lohengrin.'  What  absurdly  early  hours  the 
Germans  keep  ?  Fancy  going  into  the  theatre 
in  broad  daylight.  It 's  not  eight  yet,  how- 
ever." 

As  the  young  men  entered  the  theatre,  Clay 
pushed  Crichton,  and  whispered :  "  There  he 


172      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

is !  "     Crichton  turned  and  saw  a  large,  power- 
ful-looking  man  glaring  full  at  Clay. 

"  An  ugly  customer  to  meet ;  you  have  your 
revolver,  I  hope." 

"  No,  but  I  fancy  there  will  be  no  trouble 
here  ;  the  police  is  rather  too  strict  for  that." 

They  were  just  in  time  to  hear  the  gem  of  the 
opera,  Mein  lieber  Schwan  ;  then  the  steel  and 
silver  knight  pushed  off  in  his  swan-shaped  boat, 
and  Elizabeth  of  Brabant  poured  forth  her  la- 
ment for  her  lost  love. 

"Heavens!  what  a  voice,"  whispered  Crich- 
ton, the  depths  of  whose  nature  had  been  stirred 
by  the  song,  passionately  devoted  to  music  as  he 
was. 

Clay  said  nothing,  but  he,  too,  was  deeply 
moved.  He  bent  eagerly  forward  to  catch  every 
note  of  the  exquisite  voice  which  pealed  forth 
the  soul-wrung  emotions  of  the  singer.  It  was 
no  acting ;  that  slight  form  trembled  with  deep 
feeling,  the  voice  vibrated  with  intensity  ;  and 
when  the  last  accents  died  upon  the  ears  of  the 
enraptured  audience,  the  bowed  head  and  con- 
vulsed frame  showed  that  the  reaction  had  set 
in,  that  nature  had  reasserted  herself,  and  that 
the  actress  was  quite  overcome  by  the  power  of 
her  own  voice  and  acting.  For  a  moment  there 
was  perfect  silence  —  then  a  rain  of  applause 
shook  the  house.  Slowly,  almost  painfully,  the 


MY  WIFE—  WHERE  IS  SHEt  173 

actress  rose,  bowed,  and  bowed  again  and  again 
to  her  delighted  audience. 

"  It  seems  cruel  to  make  her  sing  it  again," 
whispered  Crichton.  "  See,  she  can  hardly 
stand,  much  less  sing.  Yet  I  confess  I  would 
give  a  great  deal  to  hear  that  voice  again. 
Strange  she  should  be  so  affected  by  her  own 
music ;  yet  she  can  be  no  novice  with  such 
powers  and  such  training." 

All  around  were  murmurs  of  admiration,  for 
the  German  spirit  of  enthusiasm  was  fairly 
roused.  Never  had  "  Lohengrin  "  been  given  as 
on  this  evening,  as  they  all  declared. 

"  Do  you  hear  ?  "  exclaimed  Clay,  in  a  hoarse 
whisper  ;  "  they  say  she  is  a  stranger.  I  knew 
it.  Yes,"  he  continued,  raising  his  glass  and 
eagerly  scanning  the  features  of  the  singer,  who 
had,  in  response  to  repeated  encores,  moved  for- 
ward, and  was  —  at  first  tremblingly,  then  by 
degrees  gaining  self-command  —  pouring  forth 
her  delicious  notes.  "  It  is  she,  Crichton,"  he 
repeated,  seizing  his  companion's  arm.  "  I  tell 
you  it  is  she." 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  "  whispered. Crichton.  "  Do 
be  quiet,  and  let  me  listen  ;  you  are  disturbing 
every  one." 

Clay  still  kept  his  glass  riveted  to  the  stage ; 
then  when  the  singer,  pausing  abruptly,  as  if  she 
feared  to  tert  her  own  self-command,  bowed  and 


174      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

hastily  retired  amid  a  storin  of  acclamations,  he, 
too,  suddenly  left  his  seat,  without  a  word  to  his 
companion,  and  rapidly  made  his  way  out  of  the 
theatre. 

For  a  few  minutes  Crichton  sat  spell-bound, 
still  under  the  influence  of  the  most  perfect 
voice  he  had  ever  heard.  He  had  not  noticed 
Clay's  departure,  so  wrapt  was  he  in  his  own 
feelings.  When  he  rose  and  took  his  way  to  the 
door,  he  found  a  crowd  had  gathered.  An  acci- 
dent had  evidently  taken  place.  He  heard  some 
one  say  that  a  man  had  been  shot.  He  pushed 
forward  with  an  undefined  dread  in  his  mind, 
and  was  just  in  time  to  see  the  police  collaring 
the  ugly  looking  fellow  Clay  had  pointed  out  to 
him,  and  two  or  three  around  a  prostrate,  insen- 
sible form,  which  he  recognized  as  that  of  his 
friend. 

"  Hush  !  you  are  not  to  talk,  old  fellow.  We 
are  under  the  doctor's  orders,  and  must  obey; 
he  's  captain  of  this  ship.  Mighty  slow,  these 
German  doctors  are.  I  wish  we  had  you  on 
board  our  ship  ;  we  would  get  you  on  your  feet 
in  a  jiffy."  The  speaker  was  Crichton,  who  was 
sitting  by  Clay's  bed,  where,  indeed,  he  had 
been  a  devoted  watcher  since  the  night  when  his 
friend  had  been  shot  at  the  theatre  door,  some 
three  weeks  before. 


MY  WIFE—  WHERE  IS  SUE?  175 

"  You  want  to  know  all  that  has  happened,  do 
you?" 

Clay's  eyes  spoke  assent. 

"  Well,  keep  calm  and  I  '11  tell  you.  The  shot 
that  fellow  fired  came  near  doing  for  you.  But 
you  've  pulled  through,  thank  Heaven." 

"  And  thanks  to  your  care,"  said  Clay,  in  a 
husky  tone,  laying  his  thin  white  hand  on  Crich- 
ton's  affectionately. 

"  Pshaw !  I  did  no  more  than  you  would 
have  done  for  me,"  said  the  other,  busying  him- 
self about  Clay's  pillows.  Then  taking  a  phial 
from  a  little  table  he  poured  a  few  drops  in  a 
spoon,  and  held  it  towards  his  friend.  "  Here, 
take  this  stuff,  and  then  you  '11  be  strong  enough 
to  hear  some  news.  Can  you  bear  to  be  as- 
tonished?" 

Clay  nodded  as  he  swallowed  the  mixture. 

"  Well,  you  were  right,  it  was  she.  The 
divine  singer  in  '  Lohengrin '  was  Miss  Arthur, 
and  my  wife  —  Alice  Castine.  Don't  faint,  I 
have  been  too  sudden,"  and  Crichton  anxiously 
flew  to  the  restorative,  as  he  saw  Clay  close  his 
eyes.  He  opened  them  immediately,  smiled, 
motioned  away  the  bottle,  and  looked  inquiringly 
into  his  friend's  face.  "  When  you  are  well," 
continued  Crichton,  "  you  shall  hear  all  the 
details,  how  we  met  and  recognized  each  other. 
She  had  known  me  at  the  theatre,  it  seems,  and 


176      STRAY  LEASES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

that  accounted  for  her  emotion,  —  a  something 
told  me  those  splendid  eyes  were  not  quite 
strange  to  me.  Poor  Alice  !  she  has  suffered 
much.  She  was  devotedly  attached  to  her  orni- 
thologist of  a  father ;  his  death  nearly  killed 
her:  he  had  brought  her  up,  she  had  had  no 
mother,  no  female  care ;  as,  by  the  way,  she 
showed  by  her  clothes  when  we  first  met.  Heav- 
ens, what  a  difference  between  my  wife  now  and 
then !  How  abominably  I  flirted  with  my  poor 
little  unsophisticated  Maine  flower  that  evening ! 
She  took  it  seriously,  as  she  has  since  confessed. 
That  charade  was  to  her  the  romance  of  her  life  ; 
and  when  years  passed  and  the  wicked  flirt  of  a 
midshipman  (I  shall  guard  my  daughters  from 
such  quicksands)  never  came  back,  she  was  left 
to  drag  out  her  days  in  sad  reflection.  Do  you 
know,  Clay,  I  believe  a  good  deal  more  of  that 
sort  of  thing  goes  on  in  the  world  than  we  are 
aware  of.  Well,  miserable  at  home,  anxious  for 
a  change,  the  poor  child,  with  her  high-strung 
self-sacrificing  nature,  was  persuaded  that  it  was 
her  mission  in  life  to  reform  a  drunken  patriot. 
She  began  by  giving  him  advice,  and  he  replied 
by  insisting  that  her  life  was  necessary  to  his. 
She  made  a  sad  mess  of  her  second  marriage.  I 
insist  that  it  was  her  second  one ;  she  was  all 
the  time  my  wife,  though  neither  of  us  knew  it. 
AVe  were  married  years  ago  in  fun ;  we  will  be 


MY  WIFE—  WHERE  IS  SHE?  177 

married  again  in  earnest.  Yes,  the  miserable 
fellow  is  dead  —  went  off  in  a  fit  a  few  days 
after  he  shot  you.  It  is  as  well,  for  though  I 
had  a  prior  claim  there  might  have  been  un- 
pleasant complications  if  he  had  lived.  Now 
what  you  have  to  do,  Clay,  is  to  get  well  as  fast 
as  possible  and  go  back  to  America  in  the 
Wabash  with  me,  and  next  summer  we  '11  have 
a  jolly  wedding  in  Newport,  where  I  first  saw 
and  married  my  wife." 

A  bitter  smile  wreathed  the  pale  lips  of 
Harry  Clay,  as  he  saw  the  sudden  demolition  of 
the  "  card  house "  he  had  been  unconsciously 
building  up  for  weeks.  He  understood  it  all 
now,  his  pity  for,  and  interest  in  this  woman 
with  the  attractive  face,  exquisite  voice,  and 
strange  story,  with  whom  his  own  happiness  had 
become  suddenly  interwoven.  But  he  gave  no 
sign ;  and  the  favored  child  of  fortune,  the  "  Ad- 
mirable Crichton,"  with  whom  everything  in  life 
succeeded,  blinded  by  the  sunshine  of  his  own 
bright  hopes,  and  happy  in  the  present,  little 
guessed  the  conflict  which  was  going  on  in  the 
heart  of  the  friend  by  whoso  bedside  he  had 
watched  so  devotedly  for  weeks,  —  the  man 
who  had  been  shot  by  the  jealous  husband  of 
his,  Crichton's,  wife,  and  whom  Crichton's  own 
words  had  just  now  unwittingly  wounded  still 
more  deeply,  a  wound,  the  marks  of  which  Clay's 


178      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

deep  nature  would  bear  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 
So  it  goes  —  we  are  often  utterly  unconscious  of 
the  secret  feelings  of  those  whom  we  think  we 
know  most  intimately. 

"  The  bard  hath  said  :   God  never  formed  a  soul 
Without  its  own  peculiar  mate, 

To  meet  its  wandering  half,  when  ripe  to  crown  the  whole. 
But  thousand  things  there  are,  which  hate 
To  look  on  happiness  ;  these  hurt,  impede, 
And  leagued  with  time,  space,  circumstance,  and  fate, 
Keep  wandering  heart  from  heart, 
To  pine,  and  pant,  and  bleed." 

The  trouble  is  that  in  the  confusion  of  "  wan- 
dering halves  "  through  the  world,  so  few  find 
their  "  own  peculiar  mates,"  but  are  perpetually 
stumbling  upon  those  of  others,  and  very  many 
get  no  "  halves"  at  alL  A  man's  whole  married 
life  may  be  colored  for  good  or  for  evil  by  the 
manner  in  which  his  fate  answers  the  question 
which,  at  some  time  in  his  existence,  every  man 
puts  to  himself  ;  the  momentous  question  :  "  My 
wife  —  where  is  she  ?  " 


OUE  BOY. 

A  SKETCH  OF   NEWPORT   DOMESTIC   LIFE. 

As  my  sister  Fan  and  I  are  spinsters  of  re- 
spectable years  and  income,  and  of  unblemished 
characters,  in  spite  of  my  being  called  "  Gin,"  — 
short  for  Virginia,  —  the  above  title  may  sound 
somewhat  startling.  I  hasten  to  say  that  the 
possessive  pronoun  affixed  to  the  noun  boy  in- 
dicates no  tenderer  tie  than  the  specious  one  of 
so  much  a  month  and  finding.  The  latter  term 
is  more  applicable  to  the  boy's  garments  than 
to  the  boy.  I  know  that  we  have  often  been 
appraised  and  speculated  upon  by  needy  bach- 
elors and  their  chums.  I  know  also  that  we 
are  considered  richer  than  we  really  are,  be- 
cause we  entertain  well  and  often  (I  pride  my- 
self upon  the  cuisine  and  appointments  of  our 
dinner-table,  as  I  am  housekeeper),  and  because 
there  is  no  mortgage  upon  our  house.  It  is  all 
done  by  good  management.  Some  people  make 
a  dollar  go  farther  than  others  can.  We  believe 
in  a  small,  complete  establishment,  rather  than  a 
large,  incomplete  one.  Pretty  chintz,  taste,  and 


180      STRA  Y  LEA  VES  FROM  NE  WPORT. 

a  little  ready  money  have  made  of  this  once  old 
shed,  which  we  bought  in  that  condition,  a  charm- 
ing vine-clad  cottage  by  the  sea,  in  which  we 
keep  Old  Maid's  Hall,  and  in  which,  in  spite  of 
the  manifold  attractions  of  the  other  sex,  or  the 
predictions  of  our  own,  we  don't  intend  to  give 
any  man  a  right  to  hang  up  a  hat  as  master. 
Marriage  of  the  pocket  does  not  tempt  us ;  mar- 
riage of  the  heart  and  soul  might ;  but  as  that 
is  an  ideal  seldom  realized,  we  have  pretty  much 
made  up  our  minds  to  live  and  die  old  maids  — 
jolly  ones,  however,  who  like  society  and  es- 
pecially little  dinners.  Man  being  the  sauce 
piquante  of  the  social  menu,  we  brave  the 
thought  of  the  covert  smiles,  and  meaning,  half- 
envious  glances  which  we  know  are  levied  at  the 
fortunate  recipient  of  an  invitation  to  dinner 
from  us,  when  he  strolls  into  the  club  enfrac, 
with  suggestive  rosebud  in  button-hole,  to  be 
quizzed  upon  his  devotion  in  a  certain  quarter. 
We  care  as  little  if  he  himself  construes  a  "  re- 
quest the  pleasure "  into  a  promissory  note  of 
hand.  Provided  the  men  who  eat  our  dinners 
pay  for  them  in  agreeable  conversation,  they  are 
welcome  to  think  what  they  please.  If  they  fail 
to  do  their  part  toward  the  entertainment,  they 
are  not  invited  again.  We  are  a  practical  pair 
of  spinsters,  and  require  quid  pro  quo.  Fan  is 
the  piano  to  my  forte.  She  says  little,  but  speaks 


OUR  BOY.  181 

to  the  point ;  she  quietly  advances  her  opinions 
and  as  quietly  retains  them,  —  a  privilege  she 
allows  others  ;  she  never  argues  ;  as  she  -tersely 
remarks,  arguments  seldom  convince.  Most  rest- 
ful society  is  Fan  after  that  of  more  combative 
people.  Fan  has  a  quick  sense  of  the  ridicu- 
lous and  a  vein  of  satire ;  her  expressive  si- 
lence is  often  a  more  eloquent  protest  than 
words.  People  who  do  not  know  her  well  call 
her  shy,  cold.  She  is  neither.  She  is  indifferent 
to  most  people,  but  once  interested  she  shows 
that  she  is  warm-hearted  and  sympathetic.  She 
is  extremely  reticent,  and  the  soul  of  honor  ;  to 
tell  a  secret  to  Fan  would  be  like  dropping  it 
into  a  well.  Fan  and  I  generally  like  the  same 
things ;  though  she  often  tries  in  her  lazy,  sar- 
castic way  to  tone  me  down,  when  I  become,  as 
she  says, "  too  enthusiastic  or  too  loud."  When 
we  set  up  our  equipage,  after  we  had  arranged 
our  house,  I  wanted  to  have  a  pair  of  ponies 
and  a  phaeton,  yellow  or  red-wheeled.  Fan 
preferred  a  brougham  with  iron  -  gray  horses. 
We  compromised  on  an  English  dark-blue  phae- 
ton, with  one  tall  bay  horse.  Then  came  the 
question  of  page  in  buttons  or  groom  in  top- 
boots.  Two  neat  -  looking  maids  in  caps  and 
frilled  aprons  sufficed  for  the  requirements  of 
the  house  up-stairs  and  down ;  a  combination 
of  gardener,  coachman,  and  choreman  in  one 


182      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

did  the  rest  of  the  work  of  the  establishment, 
save  and  excepting  waiting  at  table  and  filling 
the  seat  in  the  rumble.  A  man  would  be  quite 
too  heavy  for  that ;  a  boy  would  be  more  nimble 
for  both  table  and  rumble.  A  boy,  too,  like  a 
twig,  could  be  morally  bent.  Fan  smiled  sa- 
tirically at  this.  Finally  bell  buttons  carried  the 
day ;  it  only  remained  to  find  a  boy. 

"  Boys  will  be  boys,"  I  musingly  remarked 
after  we  had  decided  to  have  a  boy  ;  "  girls  at- 
tend much  better  to  their  business ;  that  one  in 
the  post-office  is  worth  all  the  boys  there." 

"Do  you  propose  to  start  the  fashion  of 
Bloomer  livery  ?  "  inquired  Fan.  "  If  you  do,  I 
don't  intend  to  drive  with  you." 

"  Nonsense,"  I  replied ;  "  of  course  we  must 
have  a  boy,  only  "  — 

"  You  want  a  model  boy  ;  you  would  then  lose 
the  pleasure  of  forming  him,"  observed  my  sister. 

"  Reforming  him,  perhaps.  Mrs.  Stubbs,  the 
washerwoman,  tried  to  work  on  my  feelings  for 
her  needy  state,  and  offered  me  her  boy,  just 
out  of  the  Reform  School." 

"  Might  it  not  be  safer  to  take  one  whom  we 
knew  had  been  there,  than  one  who  perhaps,  for 
all  we  know,  may  be  on  his  way?"  suggested 
Fan.  "  I  have  n't  much  opinion  of  boys  as  a 
class,  but  you  seemed  so  bent  on  one  that  I  gave 
way." 


OUR  BOY.  183 

"  A  man  might  drink,"  I  observed  ;  "  a  boy  is 
certainly  the  lesser  evil  of  the  two." 

A  boy  was  found  for  us  by  a  lady  who,  being 
in  the  habit  of  dropping  in  upon  the  unprotected 
poor  and  advising  them  as  to  their  domestic 
affairs,  knew  all  their  boys  of  all  sizes  and  ca- 
pacities. This  boy,  she  assured  us,  was  born  for 
the  position,  and  for  us  ;  and  indeed  he  seemed 
so.  He  took  to  the  reins,  visiting  cards,  and 
dinner  plates,  as  if  he  had  always  handled  them. 
His  innocent  little  face  and  trim  boyish  figure 
were  set  off  by  his  livery  suit  of  gray,  with  black 
collar  and  cuffs,  and  bell  buttons,  and  his  special 
pride,  a  tall  beaver.  For  a  week  we  were  a 
happy  trio  ;  Fan  taking  her  ease  as  she  reclined 
back  in  her  phaeton,  I  driving,  and  Tommy 
with  folded  arms  behind,  a  gem  of  a  tiger.  We 
congratulated  ourselves  upon  having  such  a 
treasure  —  a  boy  who  needed  so  little  moulding 
into  the  position  of  page,  who,  in  fact,  had 
moulded  himself,  as  it  were. 

One  day  having  occasion  to  do  some  shopping, 
I  drew  up  before  Lawton's  well-known  store,  in 
crowded  Thames  Street,  and  with  recommenda- 
tions to  Tommy  not  to  let  any  wheels  run  into 
ours,  left  him  in  charge  of  horse  and  phae- 
ton. I  had  a  long  list  of  required  articles,  and 
soon  became  immersed  in  the  business  of  se- 
lecting them.  With  ladies  to  right  of  me,  ladies 


184       STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

to  left  of  me,  and  shop  boys  and  girls  in  front 
of  me,  with  conversation  all  around,  to  get  what 
I  wanted  was  a  work  of  time.  When  at  last 
I  had  concluded  my  shopping  and  reached  the 
shop  door,  no  phaeton  was  to  be  seen ;  but  prone 
on  the  pavement,  locked  in  the  arms  of  another 
very  ragged  boy,  hatless,  and  so  covered  with 
dirt  as  to  be  almost  unrecognizable,  and  pouring 
out  most  disgraceful  language,  rolled  my  inno- 
cent-faced tiger.  With  tiger-like  grasp  he  held 
on  to  the  other ;  it  was  with  difficulty  they  were 
separated  by  some  of  the  by-standers,  and  at  last, 
with  blood-stained  faces  and  torn  garments, 
placed  upon  their  feet.  "  He  jawed  me  in  my 
new  beaver,"  was  the  disjointed  sentence  gulped 
out  —  interrupted  by  sobs  and  struggles  to  get 
free  and  at  it  again  —  by  my  tiger,  alas,  so 
fallen  from  his  high  estate.  The  beaver,  cause 
of  the  battle,  had  been  placed  out  of  harm's  way 
on  the  top  of  a  packing -box  near  the  shop, 
where,  covered  with  a  much  soiled  handkerchief 
from  Tommy's  pocket,  it  still  remained,  the  only 
thing  intact  of  the  whole  turnout ;  for  the  horse 
left  to  his  own  devices  had,  unheeded  by  Tommy, 
in  the  greater  interest  of  "pitching  into  the 
feller  who  jawed  him,"  run  against  a  carriage, 
broken  that  and  the  phaeton  lamps,  the  springs 
and  wheels,  and  after  causing  considerable  dam- 
age and  more  fright,  been  stopped  by  two  men, 


OUR  BOY.  185 

one  of  whom  was  badly  kicked.  It  took  a  fort- 
night or  more  to  repair  our  vehicle  and  Tom- 
my ;  to  whom,  in  consideration  of  his  mother's 
widowed  and  impecunious  state  and  his  own 
tender  though  bumptious  years,  we  paid  up  a 
full  month's  wages.  This,  with  the  doctor's  bill 
for  attendance  upon  him  as  well  as  upon  the 
poor  man  who  had  stopped  the  horse,  with  the 
charges  of  the  veterinary  surgeon,  and  repairs 
of  our  own  vehicle,  came  to  no  small  amount. 
All  this,  with  visits  of  thanks  to  the  lady  who 
brought  me  home  from  the  scene  of  strife, 
visits  of  apology  to  the  lady  whose  carriage 
mine  had  run  into,  and  visits  of  condolence  to 
the  injured  man,  unable  to  work  for  wife  and 
children  dependent  upon  him,  to  say  nothing  of 
my  individual  mortification  at  the  behavior  of 
my  boy,  disinclined  me  to  more  trials  of  the 
species. 

"  Suppose  we  try  an  older  and  plainer  boy," 
said  Fan,  "  not  such  a  child  as  Tommy.  You 
were  caught,  Gin,  by  a  pretty  face." 

A  line  inserted  in  the  several  daily  and 
weekly  papers  brought  a  perfect  shower  of  boys, 
black  and  white,  large  and  small.  A  colored 
youth,  whose  good-natured  honest  face  was  a 
strong  recommendation  in  itself,  and  who  was 
recommended  as  knowing  horses  thoroughly, 
and  being  capable  and  willing  to  wait  at  table, 


186       STRA  Y  LEA  VES  FROM  NE  WPORT. 

seemed  very  promising,  and  was  engaged  for  a 
week  on  trial ;  we  enumerated  the  several  du- 
ties of  his  dual  position,  to  all  of  which  he 
cheerfully  agreed. 

"  Moses  is  too  large  for  a  jacket,"  I  said, 
**  even  if  Tommy  had  not  put  that  suit  hors  de 
combat^  when,  as  George  (our  punster  cousin) 
would  say,  he  gave  the  other  boy  collar  and 
cuffs  to  match." 

"  Would  it  not  be  advisable  to  wait  a  week, 
before  we  go  to  any  expense  on  Moses'  ac- 
count ?  "  observed  my  sister. 

Moses  was  duly  installed,  and  quite  delighted 
us  by  the  way  he  kept  the  silver  and  knives,  and 
attended  to  the  other  duties  of  his  inside  posi- 
tion. For  three  days  of  his  trial  week  it  rained 
incessantly,  so  that  the  phaeton  was  not  in  req- 
uisition. At  last  the  sun  came  out  in  all  the 
more  glory  from  its  long  absence.  A  friend 
called  for  Fan  to  drive ;  and  I,  left  to  my  own 
society,  was  glad  to  be  interrupted  by  the  arrival 
of  General  Wiley,  an  old  acquaintance,  to  whom 
I  proposed  a  drive  to  the  Fort.  Moses  in  his 
best  garments  —  rather  a  seedy  suit  of  black, 
the  beaver  Tommy  had  cherished  so  fondly,  a 
trifle  small  for  him,  —  looked  not  unlike  a  Hamp- 
ton student,  or  a  youthful  member  of  the  colored 
church  convention ;  but  as  there  was  nothing 
very  remarkable  about  him,  I  could  not  account 


OUR  BOY.  187 

for  the  attention  our  turnout  attracted  on  the 
avenue,  the  smiles  and  glances  even  from  those 
we  did  not  know. 

*'  Is  there  anything  queer  about  us  or  the 
horse  ?  "  I  asked,  interrupting  my  companion 
in  the  midst  of  a  descriptive  trip  to  the  Holy 
Land. 

I  turned  off  the  avenue  as  I  spoke,  and  the 
General  turned  his  head.  "  Look  at  your  tiger," 
he  said. 

My  tiger !  Good  heavens,  what  a  parody ! 
His  coat  flapping  open,  his  arms  dangling,  his 
head,  on  the  back  of  which  he  had  pushed  the 
uncomfortable  beaver,  swaying  from  side  to  side 
with  every  motion  of  the  vehicle. 

"  Put  your  hat  on  your  head,  sit  up  straight, 
and  fold  your  arms,"  I  said,  in  the  sternest  ac- 
cents I  could  command,  while  the  General  shook 
with  suppressed  laughter. 

"  You  did  n't  tell  me  I  was  to  fold  my  arms ; 
I  can't  do  it,"  he  answered,  firmly  but  respect- 
fully. 

"  Can't  fold  your  arms  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  I  would  n't  fold  my  arms  like  them  white 
monkeys,  no,  not  if  my  own  mother  told  me  to," 
he  replied  hotly. 

At  this  General  Wiley  took  no  pains  to  con- 
ceal his  merriment,  and  I  with  difficulty  kept 


188      STRAY  LEAVES  FROM  NEWPORT. 

up  my  own  dignity  long  enough  to  conclude  the 
colloquy,  during  which  Moses  retained  his  awk- 
ward attitude. 

"I  won't  keep  any  one  who  won't  fold  his 
arms ;  I  will  pay  you  your  week's  wages  and 
you  can  go  back  to  your  mother.  You  may  get 
out  and  walk  home." 

I  got  through  the  sentence  successfully, 
dropped  the  independent  Moses,  and,  whipping 
up  the  horse,  joined  my  companion  in  a  hearty 
laugh  at  what  he  declared  was  one  of  the  most 
amusing  scenes  he  had  ever  witnessed.  The 
General  is  a  good  raconteur,  and  many  a  din- 
ner-table has  he  amused  with  the  story  of  "  Miss 
Virginia's  tiger,  the  missing  link  who  would  not 
be  a  monkey." 

Our  next  boy,  for  we  actually  tried  another, 
was  a  success,  though  we  hesitated  about  saying 
so  even  to  ourselves,  until  we  were  quite  sure  of 
it.  Would  that  we  had  kept  the  secret  within 
our  own  breasts.  He  had  been  in  buttons  be- 
fore, felt  at  home  in  them,  was  quite  callous 
when  jeered  at  by  other  boys,  and  he  folded  his 
arms  as  if  he  preferred  that  mode  of  carrying 
them  to  all  others. 

One  day,  half  an  hour  before  dinner,  to  which 
we  expected  some  friends,  I  opened  the  door  of 
the  dining  -  room.  In  preparation  for  the  re- 
past, I  rang  for  Joseph.  lie  was  non  est.  The 


OUR  BOY.  189 

last  the  maids  had  seen  of  him  he  was  being  in- 
terviewed at  the  back  gate  by  our  most  frequent 
visitor  —  a  man  who  had  eaten  our  salt  and 
broken  bread  with  us,  handed  him  by  Joseph. 
It  was  the  first  day  of  the  month,  and  the  boy 
had  received  his  wages  an  hour  or  two  before 
he  took  French  leave  of  us.  To  do  him  justice, 
he  did  not  take  anything  else.  We  found  the 
spoons  all  right.  It  was  rather  cheeky  for  the 
man  who  had  changed  Joseph's  coat  to  bow  to 
us  with  his  sweetest  smile,  upon  the  avenue, 
from  his  dog-cart,  on  the  back  seat  of  which 
the  treasure  he  had  robbed  us  of,  with  well-bred 
tiger's  blank  expression,  studied  his  new  mas- 
ter's back. 

We  are  at  present  boyless.  If  ever  the  back 
seat  of  our  phaeton  be  filled  by  boy  or  man,  we 
do  not  intend  to  give  him  credit  for  any  good 
qualities.  Should  we  again  succeed  in  finding  a 
treasure,  we  will  not  trust  our  nearest  and  dear- 
est friend,  in  the  season  at  Newport,  with  the 
secret,  but  on  principle  steadily  abuse  to  all  vis- 
itors our  boy  —  the  only  way  to  keep  one. 


FATA  MORGANA:  ON  NEWPORT'S  BAY. 

DEDICATED   TO   MISS    MAUD   MOBGAN. 

CLOSE  to  Calabria's  classic  shore 

Messina's  waters  calmly  lie, 
Reflecting  wondrous  rays  which  pour 

In  splendor  over  earth  and  sky. 
There,  it  is  said,  in  the  magic  light, 

Are  mirrored  visions  passing  fair, 
Castles  peopled  by  beings  bright, 

Youth  and  maiden  of  beauty  rare. 

Rhode  Island's  Garden,  washed  by  her  bay, 

Is  a  fair  vision  of  Nature  and  Art. 
Seen  in  the  light  of  a  summer  day, 

It  attracts  the  eye,  enchants  the  heart. 
Old  Sol  sheds  around  it,  in  lingering  embrace, 

Richest  jewels  of  changing  light ; 
Ere  he  turns  aside  liis  genial  face, 

He  "dips  his  colors"  in  gallant  good-night. 

And  Sappho  has  left  the  Isles  of  Greece, 
And  Psyche  with  beauty  of  soul  in  face 

Has  found  her  way  to  the  "  Isle  of  Peace," 
Robed  in  garments  of  classic  grace ; 


FATA  MORGANA.  191 

Fillets  of  gold  in  her  rich  brown  hair, 

The  "sacred  fire"  within  her  breast, 
The  flush  of  youth  on  her  cheek  so  fair, 

And  eyes  through  which  the  heart  is  guessed. 
Now,  floating  clear  on  zephyr's  wings, 

Come  strains  of  music,  soft  and  low, 
A  skilled  hand  playing  the  golden  strings 

Of  the  heart,  and  the  harp,  in  the  evening  glow. 


GEN.  ALBERT  GALLATIN  LAWRENCE 

HEBO   OF   FORT   FISHER. 
Family  motto,  Quero,  Invenio ;  Arms,  Bagged  Cross. 

How  many  men  from  year  to  year 
Waste  on  the  world's  great  stage 

Their  fleeting  hour,  then  disappear  ; 
No  trace  on  history's  page ! 

But  Nature  sometime  dormant  lies, 

And  from  the  clay  inert, 
The  master  spirit  will  arise, 

A  claim  to  race  assert. 

Thus  when  "  To  arms  "  the  country's  call 

The  nation's  courage  fired, 
The  motto  borne  on  Acre's  wall 

Crusader's  blood  inspired 

To  "  seek  and  find,"  the  flag  to  save, 

Though,  at  his  own  great  loss  ; 
The  hero  of  Fort  Fisher  gave 

His  "  arm,"  but  kept  his  "  cross,"  — 


GENERAL  A.  G.'  LAWRENCE.  193 

The  "  ragged  cross  "  which  holy  knight 

Discerned  in  war's  dark  sky, 
And  swore  by  its  pure,  golden  light 

To  conquer,  or  to  die  : 

He  won  the  "  cross  "  for  which  he  fought. 

One  of  his  race  and  name 
In  Fisher's  laurels,  dearly  bought, 

That  "cross"  could  doubly  claim. 

When  "  Death  for  him  unbarred  Truth's  gate," 
And  solved  the  problem  —  "  Where  ?  " 

Freed  from  Life's  "  cross,"  a  happier  fate 
God  grant  't  was  his  to  share. 

As  face  to  face  each  year  are  brought 

The  living  and  the  dead, 
With  Comrades'  sweet  memorial  thought, 

The  Roll  of  Honor  read, 

One  absent  grave,  which  should  be  here, 

From  Lawton  Post  receives, 
With  thoughts  of  those  who  hold  it  dear, 

Its  wreath  of  Newport  Leaves. 


WARREN'S  NEWPORT  HOME. 

STANDING  back  with  the  past   and  back  from   the 

street, 

With  soul-stirring  memories  the  old  house  replete, 
Tall   trees  shading  grass -plat,   round  which  broad 

paths  wind, 

Its  old-fashioned  garden  straggling  behind, 
It  tells  to  the  breeze  its  youth's  tale  of  romance, 
When  fair  Newport  flirted  with  chivalrous  France. 
Of  the  then  famous  beauties  the  names  it  retains 
Where  diamond-point  scrawled  them  on  old  window- 
panes. 

More  precious  than  stories  of  brocade  and  lace, 
More  recent  the  vision  of  hero's  sad  face  ; 
Of  midnight  lamp  burning,  of  eagle  eye  scanning 
The  pages  of  science,  his  active  brain  planning 
Campaigns  in  the  fields  which  to  scholars  afford 
Occasions  to  prove  the  "  pen  mighty  as  sword." 
Now  through  the  wide  rooms,  though  vacant,  the  air 
Seems  peopled  with  ghosts  of  thoughts  buried  there ; 
Again  there  breathe  words,  sweet  as  violets  pressed, 
With   which   faithful    love    the    crushed    heart   ca- 
ressed. 


WARREN'S  NEWPORT  HOME.  195 

Man,  eager  for  progress,  the  old  landmark  removes, 

Conservative  woman  such  change  disapproves. 

The  women  of  Boston  refused  to  release 

To  relic-destroyer  their  Warren's  mouthpiece  ; 

The  "  Old  South  Church  "  window  still  echoes  the 

sound 

Of  Bunker  Hill's  thunder  o'er  historic  ground : 
Let  the  women  of  Newport,  with  patriot's  pride, 
Keep  the  house  where  the  hero  of  Gettysburg  died ; 
Let  the  spot  where  his  final  life-battle  was  fought 
A  Grand  Army  Mecca  for  Newport  be  bought ; 
Over  the  portal  the  flag  he  loved  wave, 
And  the  shade  of  brave  Warren  shall  welcome  the 

brave. 


The  Publications 


OF 


CUPPLES    AND    HURD. 


ADAMS,  SARAH   H.      THE    MONK'S   WED- 
DING.    A   novel.     By  C.  F.  Meyer.    Trans- 
lated by  Sarah  H.  Adams.      Cr.  8vo,  unique  bind- 
ing, gilt  top,  $1.25. 

It  reads  like  a  romantic  and  fascinating  improvisation 
and  possesses  realistic  loyalty  to  facts,  idealistic  interest, 
and  literary  form  and  finish. 

LITERATURE       Being    eight   essays  on 

Emerson,  Voltaire,  Frederick  the  Great,  Macaulay, 
Albert  Diirer,  The  Brothers  Grimm,  Bettina  von 
Arnim,  and  Dante'.  By  Prof.  Hermann  Grimm. 
Translated  by  Sarah  H.  Adams.  i2mo,  Cloth, 
gilt  top,  $1.50. 

THE  LIFE  OF  RAPHAEL,  AS  SHOWN  IN 

HIS  PRINCIPAL  WORKS.  By  Prof.  Hermann  Grimm. 
Translated  by  Sarah  H.  Adams.  i2mo,  $1.50. 

THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  ROME.     By 


Prof.  Hermann  Grimm.  A  brochure  addressed  to 
all  lovers  of  Rome,  in  regard  to  the  vandalism  now 
waging  there.  Translated  by  Sarah  H.  Adams. 
i6mo,  paper,  20  cents. 

ALCOTT,  A.  BRONSON.  RALPH  WALDO  EMER- 
SON: HIS  CHARACTER  AND  GENIUS,  IN 
PROSE  AND  VERSE.  With  portrait  and  pho- 
tographic illustrations,  i  vol.  8vo,  cloth,  $3.00. 


2  Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd, 

ALEXANDER,  FRANCES.  THE  STORY  OF  IDA. 
By  Francesca.  Edited,  with  preface,  by  John 
Ruskin.  With  frontispiece  by  the  author.  i6mo, 
limp  cloth,  red  edges,  75  cents. 

THE   STORY   OF   LUCIA.      Translated 

and     illustrated     by     Frances    Alexander,     and 
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AMORY,  THOMAS  C.  THE  LIFE  OF  ADMIRAL 
SIR  ISAAC  COFFIN,  BARONET :  His  ENG- 
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ARIEL,  LOG  OF  THE,  IN  THE  GULF  OF 
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Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd.  3 

ANONYMOUS.  THE  TERRACE  OF  MON  DESIR : 
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ATTWOOD,  FRANCIS  G.  ROLLO'S  JOURNEY  TO 
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T)  ALCH,     ELIZABETH.      ZORAH  ;     A     LOVE 
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BANDMANN,  DANIEL  E.      AN   ACTOR'S   TOUR; 

OR,   SEVENTY   THOUSAND  MILES  WITH 

SHAKESPEARE.      With  portrait   after   W.  M. 

Hunt.     i2mo,  cloth,  $1.50. 


4          Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd. 

BANDALIER,  A.  F.  MEXICO.  With  heliotypes, 
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BESANT,  WALTER,  AND  HENRY  JAMES.  THE  ART 
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BEST  HUNDRED  BOOKS.  The  controversy 
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BRAINARD,  CHAS.  H.  JOHN  HOWARD  PAYNE. 
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BROOKS,  LOUISE.  TRANSLATIONS  FROM 
THE  GERMAN  OF  JOHANNA  SPYRI. 

HEIDI :   HER  YEARS    OF  WANDERING  AND 

LEARNING.        HOW    SHE    USED  WHAT  SHE  LEARNED. 

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RICO   AND  WISELI.     Containing   Rico 


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VERONICA   AND  OTHER   FRIENDS. 


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Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd.  5 

BROOKS,  LOUISE.  GRITLI'S  CHILDREN,  isrno. 
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BROWN,  FRANCIS  H.,  M.D.  HARVARD  UNI- 
VERSITY IN  THE  WAR  OF  1861-1865.  A 

RECORD  OF  SERVICES  RENDERED  IN  THE  ARMY  AND 
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BUSH,  GEORGE  GARY.  HARVARD :  THE  FIRST 
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BYERS,  S.  H.  M.  SWITZERLAND  AND  THE 
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6          Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd. 

/^ALLENDAR,  E.  B.     THADDEUS  STEVENS, 

^•"  (AMERICAN  STATESMAN  AND  FOUNDER  OF  THE 
REPUBLICAN  PARTY).  A  Memoir.  With  portrait. 
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CARPENTER,  HARVEY.  THE  MOTHER'S  AND 
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CUMMINGS,  REV.  E.  C.  NATURE  IN  SCRIP- 
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8vo,  $1.75. 

A  remarkable  book  and  a  book  for  "  thinkers."    Wor- 
thy to  be  placed  beside  Mulford's  "  Republic  of  God." 

CUPPLES,  GEORGE.  CUPPLES  HOWE,  MARI- 
NER: By  the  author  of  "The  Green  Hand." 
i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.00.  Paper,  50  cents. 

CUPPLES,  MRS.  GEORGE.  DRIVEN  TO  SEA ;  OR 
THE  ADVENTURES  OF  NORRIE  SETON. 
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THE  DESERTED  SHIP:  A  STORY 

OF  THE  ATLANTIC.  i2mo.  Cloth,  Illus- 
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CURTIS,  GEORGE  TICKNOR.  LIFE,  CHARAC- 
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MON,  SOPHIE  M.  OLD  NEW  ENGLAND 
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Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd.  7 

DES  CARS,  COUNT  A.  PRUNING  FOREST  AND 
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DONALDSON,  F.  JR.  TWO  COMEDIES  :  AN  ILL 
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ELIOT,  WILLIAM  G.     THE   STORY  OF  AR- 
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ELLIS,  GEORGE  E.  THE  SEWALL  PAPERS. 
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8  Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd. 

ELLIS,  GEORGE  E.,  D.D.,  LL.  D.  THE  EVACUA- 
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understanding  of  nature's  laws. 


Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd.  9 

"FRANK,  DOCTOR."  HEALTH  OF  OUR  CHIL- 
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/^AUTIER,    JUDITH.      RICHARD    WAGNER, 
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"RIENZI"  TO  "PARSIFAL."     Translated  by 
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GOODWIN,  MRS.  H.  B.      ONE  AMONG   MANY. 
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OUR    PARTY    OF     FOUR.     A   Novel. 

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CHRISTINE'S    FORTUNE.       A    Story. 


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DR.   HOWELL'S   FAMILY.     A  Story  of 


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A  biography  of  the  hero  of  Japan  and  a  history  of 
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io        Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd. 

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HINTON,  JAMES,  M.  D.  THE  MYSTERY  OF 
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Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd.          1 1 

LIGHT  ON  THE  PATH.  A  Treatise  written  for 
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Eastern  Wisdom,  and  who  desire  to  Enter  Within 
its  Influence.  Written  down  by  M.  C.,  Fellow  of 
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LIFE'S  PROBLEMS.  HERE  AND  HEREAFTER. 
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Cloth,  gilt  top,  $7.50. 

Light  and  entertaining,  yet  giving  much  information 
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LITTLE,  ARTHUR.  NEW  ENGLAND  INTERI- 
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LITTLE,  DAVID  MASON.  INSTANTANEOUS 
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LONGFELLOW  AND  EMERSON.  THE  MASSA- 
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Dr.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  Charles  E.  Norton, 
Dr.  G.  E.  Ellis,  and  others,  together  with  Mr. 
Emerson's  tribute  to  Thomas  Carlyle,  and  his 
earlier  and  much-sought-for  addresses  on  Sir 
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12         Publications  of  Clippies  &  Hurd, 

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TOWHEAD  :  THE  STORY  OF  A  GIRL. 

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Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd.         13 

MURRAY,  W.  H.  H.  HOW  DEACON  TUBMAN 
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ORNE,    PHILIP.      SIMPLY     A    LOVE    STORY. 
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Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd.         15 

POULTRY.  The  Raising  and  Management  of 
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Publications  of  Cupples  &  Hurd.         17 

T  7ILLE,  GEORGE.     HIGH   FARMING  WITH- 
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WATERSON,  ANNA  C.  ADELAIDE  PHILIPPS, 
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WELLS,  CLARA  L.  THE  AMPHITHEATRES  OF 
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WINNIPEG  COUNTRY  THE;  OR,  ROUGH- 
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THE  LOVE  OF  A  LIFETIME.     A   Story 

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WINSLOW,  KATE  REIGNOLDS.  YESTERDAYS 
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WRIGHT,  CARROLL  D.  THE  RELATION  OF  PO- 
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